Bingo Drabbles
by Zee-Zee Magee
Summary: Here's where I'm putting all of my bingo drabbles. It's mostly Nate/Sophie stuff for now. I own nothing. Rogers, Downey and Devlin do. Spoilers throughout the series. Read at your own risk.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**_ This is actually a story on its way. I just don't know if it's a fanfiction or an original yet._

**AU**

Nate could remember many firsts when it came to his life with Sophie Devereaux. He remembered the first time he saw her, in that red dress with her hair flowing back in the wind as her chocolate eyes looked back in time to make sure he wasn't close to catching her that day in Prague. He remembered the day they actually met, a day of sweltering heat where she seemed to be the only person unaffected by the stuffy air and he learned her fake name. He even remembered the look on her face the first time he saved her life, and the three hour tirade she had when he simply pretended nothing happened and he somehow ended up with her helping him on his very next job though he was dead positive he never asked her. But the most important first was the day he discovered she was a fairy.

He had theories of Ms. Devereaux's true nature for years. He constantly entertained the thought that she was a goddess in disguise or a siren meant to lure him to his death who never quite got that far. A woodland nymph was on the top of that list for years because he could almost swear the trees were moving to protect her in that forest in Burgundy. He thought she might have been a demigod at some point during their adventure in Moscow. Throughout their history it was mostly Greek or Roman mythology that crawled through his mind. He never expected her culture to date back to the Vikings and belong to the Scots and the Irish. He never expected her to be a member of the fae.

Her English accent should have been enough to clue him in; it was a very purposeful hint. She always seemed to be very careful when in Glasgow, Dublin, Kilkenny, Tallow, Broadway and all the other places Ireland seemed to offer them. In Scotland and Norway she was practically a national treasure the way she would constantly walk the streets as if she could never be harmed. They certainly didn't try too hard to catch either; she hadn't exactly committed any crimes there. He clued in in Switzerland when a little girl of seven ran up to her and demanded to be taken to the sea so she could be a dark one too. She definitely had the black eyes, black hair and dark skin of a Selkie. He was almost sold on the idea that she was one of the daughters of the sea, somebody whose true form is a seal. It would be very easy for her to use one of her warehouse hideouts as a place to slip out of her skin and store it away where no man could steal it from her and effectively imprison her as his wife.

Then the job came where she saved his life. How did she do that? Well, she made a whole bunch of birds attack the men with guns. Then she proceeded to use the water to heal his mortal wound. She even urged the moss to grow and make him a perfectly cushioned bed while he recuperated. Unfortunately for her, she thought he was unconscious, dazed and confused.

She was gone when he finally woke up in his hotel room later that afternoon. His nymph theory started to appear far more accurate than he expected. So he did his research and discovered something he wasn't expecting. He ran to catch her again, and to thank her for her work. A job came up and she was the perp. She ran and he chased. In fact, he chased her to Spain where she was working on a little job.

She was conning some rich man. It doesn't matter who, she never finished the job. Nate remembered the way she looked as she was conning the man. He could tell just by looking at him that her mark wasn't normal. His eyes were gold permanently and his cologne constantly reeked of sulfur. He was a demon. She was conning a demon with absolutely no fear and a firm smile on her face. When he finally got a moment to talk to her he was almost stunned into silence. Her eyes weren't the usual chocolate brown color they belonged to. No, they were glowing an earthly green and she seemed to have no idea the scent she was giving off. It was safe and smelled of the earth, covering the sulfuric smell perfectly.

"What do you want, Nate?" She asked, her eyes changing to a darker green at his appearance.

"You're a fairy," he said and that's all that needed to be spoken.

The grifter's eyes snapped back to brown and her head shot around with fear blazing in her eyes. She gripped his lapels with such intensity fear shot through him. They found their way to a closet and she turned on the light. Her eyes flashed bright green again before their conversation began.

"What do you want?" She asked, reaching into her purse in a very pointed gesture.

"Not a bribe, that's for sure," he replied, pulling her arms down with worry, "That's not why I'm here."

"You're going to report me," she said, despair vibrating through her voice, "How did you figure it out?"

"You saved my life." He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him directly in the eyes. "I thought you were a nymph until I did some research. Nymphs can only control one element of nature. You can control all of them. Plus, your eyes glowed green just now. You're a member of the fae, a fairy. A very powerful fairy, I might add."

The smile on her face tugged at his heart somehow in ways Maggie never could. There was mischief shining in her eyes and it was almost like they were playing the same old game. But Nate could sense danger lurking under the surface. He knew there was something bad lurking behind that smile.

"I always knew you were brilliant," she said, slowly raising her hand to caress his cheek, "I was hoping not that brilliant though."

Panic started to rise in the mastermind's chest. He grabbed her hand and flinched at the heat that was radiating from it. He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back so their eyes were meeting once again.

"I have a wife and son, Sophie," he growled.

She laughed. The sound was hollow and mirthless. It even had a ring of sadness.

"I'm not going to kill you," she said, "I don't kill. It's one of the many fae rules I actually follow. I'm just going to do some harmless brain alterations."

He grabbed her hand and forced her into the wall. Then he used his body to pin her there and created the illusion of something different. He even placed a stray hair behind her ear just to stick with it.

"You're not going to wipe my memory of you," he said.

"No," she smiled and shook her head, "Just this moment and every moment of your discovery. You'll thank me for it later."

His grip on her hand tightens. Her eyes widen with surprise and turn green with anger. He smiled and continues to shake his head.

"Your secret is safe with me, Soph. Please… don't take them away."

"I can't trust you, Nate." There was pain in her eyes, forcing them to a more violet green. She looked so saddened by what she was about to do that Nate could have sworn his heart stopped. For just one moment he was allowed inside the mind of Sophie Devereaux; all the secrets, all the lies. No wonder her list of friends was so easily made on a couple of fingers.

He grabbed her hand and smiled. Then he cupped her cheek and forced her to see something no one else could ever know of.

"I swore an oath to the Fae Coven a long time ago that I would never give away the true identity of any of its members," he said, "and I swear on the royal family to uphold that promise."

The smile that cracked upon her face was that of a child on Christmas morning. She even had a few tears of happiness sparkling in her eyes. He'd never been so relieved to see her beautiful brown orbs return.

"You're not human either," she said.

He put a finger to his lips and that was the end of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Action/Adventure: Mostly Action**

"I can't believe you."

Sophie Devereaux was not a happy camper. First, she was told she was going to have the most romantic dinner of her life. Then she was given a very expensive pair of earrings she had her eyes on for a solid six months. And what happened just when the man of her deepest desires decided to start a very important conversation?

They bloody well get kidnapped!

This day was not at all going the way she planned. Make that night because it was well past midnight. She was hoping to be locked away in bed, exerting some well invested energy in nighttime entertainment. She wanted breakfast in bed fed to her by Nate. Instead she gets his bleeding head in her lap and there's no hope of the team finding them anywhere.

"Some bloody holiday this turned out to be," she grumbled.

A soft chuckle made her skin crawl. She thought they were alone. But no, the big guy from before picked that moment to make himself known. His eyes were trained solidly on her and the one dress strap that didn't quite make it through the fray.

"You're very pretty," he said.

If Sophie didn't know any better she would have called him slow. But she was a grifter, some say the best in the world. She knew when an act was just an act. And this was most certainly an act. His cold, grey eyes were hovering over her every curve and it nearly brought bile past her lips. She knew what he wanted. She even knew why he was there. She just didn't know why he was waiting.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, as innocently as possible. He even held up a sandwich to show his intensions were pure. She probably would have believed him if his left hand wasn't still in his pocket.

"I've already eaten," she replied.

It was a risky move, talking to the kidnapper. He was obviously the stooge meant to keep her in line. He wasn't meant to talk to her. But she had a feeling she could break him. At the very least she could have fun toying with his mind.

"Have you had dessert?" He asked, "That's always been my favorite."

"Mind dropping the act?" She smiled despite herself, "I'm a little tied up at the moment. I don't feel like dealing with your atrocious acting on top of it."

That one hurt.

"Listen, bitch," he said, "Boss is paying me to keep you in line. You don't really want to know how I keep women with your figure in line. Do me a favor and stop while you're ahead."

"My mother never taught me to just lay there and take it when someone is being ungentlemanly."

She shouldn't have said that. A blazing fire was already igniting in her cheek. She didn't even see him move. He was a lot faster than she would have pegged a man of his stature. He was practically round his belly was so big. But those tiny fat fingers of his were made for pain. There was no doubt in her mind she would have a mark soon.

The man seemed quite pleased with his action. He even smiled like it was the greatest thing in the world. Then a light glistened in his eyes, a light that said far too much about his true intensions. He stepped towards her again and grabbed onto her neck.

"You behave yourself, my dear," he said, "or you'll see just how ungentlemanly I can be."

She wanted to comment at the threat. She really wanted to get under the guy's nerves. But Nate was in her lap and fear for his well-being stemmed any reply. She just nodded her head and continued stroking the mastermind's head. She had to be on her best behavior.

He let her go and silence lapsed between them. Sophie continued to stroke the mastermind's hair and tried to ignore the burning sensation of the ropes around her. Why they decided to tie her wrists loosely was beyond her but she would take advantage of their mistake. First thing was first. She needed information.

"Who do you work for?" She asked.

The man chuckled and shook his head. He placed a finger to his lips and shushed her. Then he leaned back as if she never spoke to begin with. Oh well, she knew how to be persistent.

"Okay," she said, "Well, I feel it is my responsibility to inform you that you are not a very good host. As a hostage I am supposed to get food and he is supposed to get medical supplies. Some water would be lovely as well."

Her right cheek erupted into fire. She received her reply.

"Do me a favor and stop talking," the man said, "I was told not to damage the merchandise."

Merchandise, that was a very important clue. She was going to be sold to some organization when this was all over. That could mean many things. The drug cartels used pretty women to move merchandise as a pack mule. The most likely outcome for her would be as a slave in some prostitution ring somewhere. Well, that would be an easy fix.

"Are you certain your boss didn't order you to not touch me because he wanted me?"

Another slap and a harshly yelled quiet were her reply. Yep, definitely meant for the boss. At last she took care of that order of business. Now what were their plans as far as Nate was concerned?

She looked down at the mastermind and started fussing with him. Being quiet and complacent seemed to be her best bet under the current circumstances. Besides, she could make a better observation of Nate's condition by taking care of him. The goon would give her everything she wanted while she went.

She started messing with his shirt and taking inventory of his injuries. He had a few broken ribs. His left eye was starting to swell shut. Sweat covered his brow so pin was definitely on the menu. There was light bruising on his knuckles. He was fighting off an attacker. He was awake when they were stolen.

She was drugged and he was awake. They used her as leverage against him. There was no doubt about that. His lip was bleeding and he had a pretty impressive bump on his head. Her wrists were sore but no other damage seemed to have come to her. Somebody had to have been injured in order for the mastermind to be in such bad shape. His shoulder wasn't even in the socket. He was decorated in bruises. They might as well have killed him with the amount of damage done.

"Don't worry about your boyfriend," the man growled, "He'll get what's owed soon."

So that was the reason behind Nate being alive. The boss was looking for revenge on him. She was just collateral. But she was taken too. The others were nowhere to be found. Their coms were taken so the perpetrator knew about their team. This was a personal attack on Nate. But this personal attack had a plan where she was safely tucked away. This was not a good plan.

"You said you're being paid to keep me in line," she said, "Why?"

The man glowered at her but refused to answer. She thought about pushing the subject but Nate groaned. He was waking. That usually meant he was waking. Their captor reported that to somebody. Great, they were using coms just like they did. Mimicking, they were mimicking Hardison's coms. They knew enough to mimic. This was more than personal. This was strategic.

"Nate, wake up." Sophie pushed against his uninjured shoulder with new urgency. She had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going. They had to get out of there soon. By the time they discovered who the boss was it would be too late. His plan would go into perfect action.

"Oops," the man said.

He was suddenly beside her in minutes. Her wrists were being plucked away from the unconscious mastermind and her body was tugged with them. The man had his hands on her and evil in his eyes.

"Time for your punishment," he winked.

His hand was on her shirt in an instant. She felt a scream pull at her lungs in response but she squashed that impulse down. Instead she shoved her knee up and fell to the ground with a smack. The wind was taken right out of her lungs and there was no way she could get it back. She groaned when the man came on top of her. Then she pulled her head forward and knocked him square in the forehead.

The pain was blinding but it was worth it. Blood was gushing from his eyes and nose. His hands were covering his face and he was writhing in pain. She kicked up her legs and pushed him off of her. Then she started to work on releasing her hands from the ropes. His boss would be there soon. He wouldn't have gone after her if he wasn't on the way.

Please don't be Moreau, she begged.

She was almost free of her bindings when disaster struck. The man howled in pain and came at her again. This time he didn't try for the usual. Instead he just grabbed onto her throat and squeezed tightly. She kicked, aiming for his face. He dodged and kicked as well. He kicked right above her knee until he broke her leg. Then there was nothing but pain and fear.

"Try breaking free now, missy," he said.

He was pulling on her wrists to the point where her shoulders hurt. She could feel tears sting her eyes as the pain became too much. His hands were wandering and there was nothing she could do about it. She only had one leg to work with and it was already too tired to carry on. She was finished. He had one.

The man yelped in pain again. His arms flew away from her wrists and throat. A figure appeared out of nowhere and yanked him away. The two scuffled, fists hitting fists. There was nothing but blows being traded every which way. The bodies were so immersed with each other that it wasn't until a very distinctive mop of curly hair appeared that the grifter realized what was happening.

"Nate!" She gasped, though it sounded more as a croak than anything else.

The mastermind refused to stop. He just kept slamming his fists into the other man. Even bruised, bloodied and as damaged as he was; he was still beating another man. Their captor, whoever he was, stopped moving. His struggling gasps for mercy were no more. He just laid limp while the mastermind continued to hit him.

The grifter struggled to free herself from her bindings. The lack of oxygen to her brain and the damage done made it far more difficult than it should have been. Her voice stopped working ages ago. The mastermind was too far away to hear. He was in his own little world, completely oblivious to the impending danger coming from the other side of the door.

It quaked a few times, the door to the outside. Then it gave a simple shutter and grew limp. It blasted away seconds later to reveal a very friendly face. Eliot Spencer ran into the room with both barrels blazing. Parker and Hardison were only millimeters behind.

Eliot noticed her first. A scowl appeared on his features, making his smile turn deadly. His hands shook with unsuppressed anger. He was looking for a reason to punch someone. Sophie shook her head to get his attention. Her eyes darted towards the mastermind with a simple message, stop him. The hitter did as he commanded but even he was too slow.

Parker raced towards the mastermind at full speed. She latched onto his hand and spoke.

"It's over," she said. Her tone was calm and commanding. She didn't even move to do anything else. She just used her voice and trusted him to listen.

He did. He released the man immediately. Then he pushed Eliot aside and rushed towards the grifter. His arms wrapped around her instantly and his grip; he wouldn't let her go.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered tears streaming down his face, "Sophie, I'm so sorry."

She didn't know what happened next. Couldn't remember. She did try to tell him it wasn't his fault. That it was their past that led to this. She blacked out before she could say it though. All she could remember was up to that moment and everything else was blank. She must have passed out. That was the only reasonable explanation for her being in a hospital. Nate hated hospitals.

"Hey, you're awake." Nate was staring at her with a very bruised face. He moved like his ribs were hurting and everything else wasn't feeling much better. How he didn't have any broken bones, she'd never know.

"What happened?" She asked.

Nate smiled at her, tears flickering in his eyes. His hand shook as it wiped hair away from her face. He looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks. His hair was disheveled, his face unshaven. She recognized that darkness in his eyes. It was the same darkness that resided there when his father died.

"You killed him, didn't you?"

She hated the way he flinched at it. Her tone sounded harsher than originally meant. She sounded as though she was rebuking him for this. She wasn't. She was just sad it went that far.

"He hurt you," he explained, "I just couldn't stop."

She nodded her head and grimaced. There was pain everywhere. Maybe that was why she was in a hospital bed. Her leg wasn't burning as much as it was before. Her shoulders still ached and her wrists were on fire. But she felt whole, that was good enough for right now.

"You saved me," she said. She placed her hand on his cheek and made eye contact. She rubbed her thumb on his forehead as if in absolution of his sins. Then she said the only thing left she could.

"What else would you do?"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Beantown Bailout Job**

She hit him in the head with a cookie sheet. Sure, she'd done worse. Much, much worse than even most of the world's greatest agencies would ever know. Hell, she'd shot the bloody bastard on more than one occasion. A cookie sheet to the head was a relatively small crime on the scale of their relationship. So why the bugger did she feel so horrible about it, obsessing over every detail in search of something differently she could have done.

"You look worse than Nate," Parker said sotto voice.

The thief was sitting on the counter calmly munching on her fifth bowl of cereal. She was kicking her legs out in a modified rhythm, one that sounded oddly like an alarm system setup in the Louvre, and munching away as if her world hadn't budged an inch. Her dark blue jeans were covering her feet because the girl who stole, and returned, the hope diamond didn't know enough about fashion to find a tailor. Ooh, that girl really needed her guidance on more than just social etiquette. At least she managed to instill some fashion sense into the tiny thief. She was wearing t-shirts and jackets that were fashionable.

Sophie blinked when she realized everybody was staring at her. She opened her mouth to say something when she realized she didn't remember what was said to respond to. Thankfully Hardison had enough grace to help her out.

"Parker, she just hit Nate with a cookie sheet," he said, "You know how she gets when one of us gets injured. Imagine how she feels being the cause of that injury."

Parker's eyes narrowed for a moment. She was trying to figure out what emotion the hacker was aiming for her to use. Then her blue-greys eyes popped wide and understanding dawned.

"Oh!" She gasped, "She feels super bad because she hit Nate! Oh, I get it now."

"She clocked him a good one too," the hitter nodded, already putting together a wonderful draft of tea, "Knocked the man unconscious and quite possibly gave him a concussion. I feel kinda proud."

"Kinda proud?" The hacker sounded scandalized, "The girl hit him with a cookie sheet. You know, the things you bake with. You didn't teach her that. That's basic thief survival one oh one."

Eliot gave him a look that plainly said he would punch the kid if he wasn't a good friend. Plus Parker was in the way. Then he waved his eyebrows in frustration and growled a curt reply.

"Betcha you couldn't knock a man out with a baseball bat let alone a cookie sheet."

"Of course I can't," the hacker said, "I'm a hacker. I hack. I don't go out into the field like the rest of yall. Put me out there with the real people and I'd betcha all I'd come back with some super skills."

Parker raised her hand expectantly. Eliot rolled his eyes and Hardison stared at her like she was crazy. Sophie just kept waiting for the girl to respond. The thief, in turn, became more and more insistant with her outstretched hand with every passing minute. Sophie gave up immediately.

"Parker," she called, pointing just to be sure the thief understood.

"Did you tell him about the boyfriend before you knocked him out?"

The atmosphere changed immediately. She could sense the boys' change of interest. Eliot bristled by the stove and shoved a spoon of sugar into her tea a bit too roughly. Hardison, far more obvious of the two, turned towards her. His mouth stood agape and ready for a fly to zoom in and make a home, or a bird's nest. Either way, he was staring at her with eyes he really had no reason to be staring at her with.

"You have a boyfriend?" He squeaked.

Sophie could practically see Eliot rolling his eyes. He didn't have to be facing her for her to read his expressions anymore.

"And Nate doesn't know," Parker nodded, "They've been dating for a whole two months now and it looks like it might be getting serious."

Eliot turned towards her with absolute curiosity.

"How do you know?" He asked. He meant about the boyfriend but the thief didn't realize that.

"Because he likes her acting too," she said, "I know because I saw him in the audience while we were all there."

Hardison made a screeching sound that could have called dogs. Eliot looked at the thief like she just discussed killing a kitten in broad daylight while its mother was watching. Sophie was… confused.

"What's wrong with my acting?"

Parker opened her mouth to reply. Hardison jumped to his feet and slammed his hand over her mouth. Eliot raced in front of them and immediately started talking.

"Name, address and phone number, please," he said, "Of the boyfriend of course."

Sophie glared at him. "You don't need to do a background check, Eliot."

"Of course not," Hardison said, "I'm doing the background check. You're dating some stranger and expect us to just let things happen without us checking up on him! What if he's a convicted serial killer or… or a serial rapist? You know those people exist. They have to in order to have several long-running television shows about them!"

"I could steal his wallet for you!" Parker volunteered.

Eliot turned towards the hacker in confusion. "You honestly think Sophie Devereaux couldn't tell if somebody was a serial killer? Dammit Hardison, she reads people better than most of the profilers I know. In fact she's more accurate than the F.B.I."

"Why do you know the F.B.I.'s track record?" The hacker demanded. Then he thought better of it and shook his head. He turned towards Sophie with a very accusing finger. "And why doesn't Nate know about this boyfriend of yours? What secrets are you hiding, missy?"

Sophie was affronted to say the least.

"I'm not hiding any secrets," she said, "I'm just dating the man. What's wrong with having a few dates and sharing some laughs?"

"Are you sleeping with him?" Eliot asked.

Sophie gave him a glare. There was no way on Earth she would ever answer that question, especially in a room full of thieves. It wasn't any of their business who she slept with, even if it wasn't Nate. She was a grown woman and if they didn't trust her to… Oh right. They couldn't trust her, could they? She violated that right when she conned them.

"I'm sorry for conning you to get my hands on the First David," she replied.

The room grew eerily quiet all of a sudden. The grifter actually had the impulse to call for an ambulance because of how quiet things had gotten. It was as though the three forgot how to breathe because of her statement. In fact, Parker looked slightly horrified.

"Is she dying?" She asked. She had latched onto Eliot's arm and actually looked confused. Too many emotions in too short a time span. They were going to have to work on that.

"No, Parker," the hitter replied, his voice soft as a lullaby. "She's just making sure we know."

The thief's features changed to a smile immediately. She released the hitter and readjusted her seating arrangements.

"Good," she said, "I was worried… that we wouldn't have a grifter for this con. It's not like I missed you guys or anything. Yep, didn't miss you guys at all…. No, way. Totally enjoyed being alone."

"So I guess you wouldn't be interested in finding out why some man tried to kill Nate today?" Sophie asked.

She felt them all perk up at the opportunity. She could read on their faces that they missed the job. And she was responsible for that. If she was going to make this right, now was as good a time to start as ever. Besides, there was no way on Earth she was going to let Nathan Ford out of her sight. That man deserved her wrath for putting himself in danger. He needed her.

Whether he knew it or not.


	4. Chapter 4

**The D.B. Cooper Job**

Odysseus. She said he reminded her of Odysseus. He reminded her of the man who fought the gods to return home. Odysseus, the sacker of Troy and King of Corinth, was his character type. Honestly, he saw it. He even understood it. Odysseus wasn't the hero everybody thought he was. He was smart, Athena's favored hero. He plotted out everything, straight down to the last soldier. It was how he got into trouble to begin with.

He outsmarted the son of Poseidon, blinded the Cyclops that didn't even respect the gods. He charmed two goddesses into taking him as a husband. He scoured the seas and wrecked several ships. He brought trouble to one town simply because they gave him a ride home. He lied to his wife, Penelope, and their son all because he wanted to kill the suitors and punish them for their poor behavior.

"Which character do you think I am most like in the Odyssey?" She asked, smiling all the while.

Siren was on the tip of his tongue. For the longest time that had been true. Sophie Devereaux was the one who constantly taunted him with his deepest desire. She offered him freedom from the rules, freedom from obligations. She enticed him to join her side so many times it was astounding he ever told her no. Other men, better men, would have folded to her enticing offers. Yet, he was the one who never did.

But she could never be the siren. She was so much more than that. Especially after Sam's death. She helped him accept who he was becoming. She nurtured him their first year together as a team. She protected him when he stepped over the line and threatened all of their lives. She scolded him however much she could when he yelled at them outside the scope of the job. She even sided with Maggie when it came to his decision about Sam's death. She wasn't the only one, of course not. The others were with her every step of the way. She was just the one who forced him into human contact. The day they became equals was the greatest moment for their relationship.

Maybe she was his Athena. She could match him step for step and even joined him in scheming against their mark. She weighed the pros and cons of every job and voiced her concerns. She even saw things he couldn't dream of noticing. She had such an eye for detail. Sophie even meant wisdom, the goddess' bread and butter.

But there were a few things Sophie did for him that Athena could never be to Odysseus. First and foremost was mother to his children. Sure, Hardison, Eliot and Parker were far too old to be their children. But the three were young and stubborn. Hardison and Parker were practically sponges looking to be molded and bettered. Eliot just needed his boundaries tested in ways that didn't rely solely on his musculature. Sophie helped him do that.

Together, they helped teach the thieves about all of the cons. They expanded their thieving abilities. Parker was more social and able to con rich men out of their wallets whenever necessary. Eliot knew the importance of having people who cared. Hardison was learning his limits and finding ways to work around them. They were kid thieves almost fully grown.

Sophie was Corinth if only because she was the way home. The beacon he longed to see and the name he hungered to hear. That was her. She was the one who pointed him in the right direction, his compass. She gave him all that he asked only hoped he would give her love and take care of her in return. He'd give her the world if she asked, and it still wouldn't compare to everything she had given him.

But there was one job she did that nobody else could even hope of achieving. She outsmarted him. She used his own cunning against him, tricked him right when he thought he finally won. It started the very first job they ever had. She ran. He chased. And he's been chasing her ever since. Always when he thinks he has her, she does something to make him absolutely speechless.

"Maggie's Calliope," he explained. He took a careful, thoughtful sip of his whiskey and worked out how to phrase the next part. She wouldn't be happy until she understood him completely. He just hoped he could say it properly.

"I would have thought that would be me," she said, "Calliope offered Odysseus immortality and he still turned her down."

"Ah," he nodded, "but Maggie offers me my past. Tara would be Circe because our first meeting was not the greatest."

"Did she turn one of our thieves into swine?" Sophie mocked.

"No, but she lied to us in order to make us aware of her presence," he said, "Though I didn't sleep with her and take her as my wife like the hero did."

"You think I'm Penelope," she surmised.

He smiled and took a sip of his glass. He knew simply by the look that she didn't agree with his choice. She was reviewing their history and wondering where he was going. In her mind it was wrong to even consider it. But she was missing the most important part.

"Odysseus traveled the sea for ten years after the war of Troy." He leaned in closer and made certain her brown eyes were focused solely on him. "But he was always trying to go home. Even with Circe and Calliope serving as wonderful distractions. His main goal was to return to the place where he belonged."

"Corinth," Sophie nodded.

"by the side of his queen, Penelope," he said, "and he landed with news that his wife was being pursued by men squandering away his son's inheritance. He had to test her loyalty, remember?"

"And in return she made him confess the truth by outwitting him," she smiled.

"But you see, Penelope waited for her husband to return. This is the important part. She spent three years fooling the suitors by weaving and unweaving a funeral cloth for her father-in-law who was only old in age. He wasn't about to die, not yet. Not like Odysseus' mother. But she still went through the trouble of making it and using that as an excuse to trick the suitors for three years. She came up with multiple reasons and tricks to get the suitors going. Then she devised the one task that only her husband could do. After twenty years of waiting, she finally had him back in her arms. And what does she do?"

"She challenges him." Her brown eyes were glowing with warmth and new understanding. Her white smile was shining brightly and she looked for all the world like the beacon she was. Even the best of the sirens couldn't fake her beauty.

"She asks him to move a bed, their bed. Instead of thinking it over, he yells at her. He screams wretched things at her and explains why their bed couldn't be removed."

"It was carved out of a tree that was still alive and growing around it." Sophie's smile told him everything.

"And she immediately melted into his arms when he revealed himself to her." Nate nodded, "and that is why you are Penelope. You waited. You tested. And you, not Maggie, ended up victorious."


	5. Chapter 5

**The Double-Blind Job**

She called him out. Sophie Devereaux called him, Nathan Ford, out for pushing Parker. He was being reckless, testing boundaries he probably shouldn't have been testing. He knew the team had trust issues when it came to him leading the crew. He screwed up that day on the Maltese Falcon when he didn't tell them all of the plan, purposefully leaving out that part of the con where he gave himself up for their freedom. Now he was paying the price by having to earn back everybody's trust. And she called him on it.

"You're a thief now just like me."

He really shouldn't have enjoyed the way she said that. It was straight forward and to the point. She wasn't trying to punish him. She was just stating a fact. A fact that meant more than what she meant it to.

He spent years chasing her around Europe. That was fact. He was always the good guy, the honest man. She was the bad guy, the criminal who tempted him every step he took. At some point during the chase they actually became friends. He couldn't say how and she probably couldn't remember when, probably. Then his son died and everything changed.

She turned him into a better man. He meant it when he said all those years ago on that Mosconi case. But she also made him into something different, something more. She was right. He was a thief. And that made them equals, something they had never been before. She could call him out whenever his call pushed the envelope a little too far into the red zone. She could, and had, lead the team just as easily without him as with him. Plus, she had one thing he didn't. She had the team's respect and trust. She actually apologized for conning them.

So yes, maybe he was a little annoyed that she called him out on Parker's close call. Maybe he was disappointed that he couldn't see that dress again. She was absolutely amazing when she performed the Cairo Flyer in that dark blue dress that left very little to the imagination. But she had the right to do it and the higher ground.

"I'll walk."

That was a very subtle threat. If she walked the others would follow her. She went through the trouble of mending the broken bridges and solidifying them with concrete instead of wood. She went and settled things for herself when she realized she was on a downward spiral. She didn't try to take the team with her and she most certainly didn't use it as an excuse to hurt them. Unfortunately she would only walk away in the most dire of situations.

She, just like him, could never tell when to run when the prize was in sight. It was how he was able to catch her. It was how she could get away. Destiny, or something very much like it, had a sick sense of humor. It was pairing two control-hungry thieves towards something spectacular. It almost wasn't fair, the things expected of him.

How was he supposed to deserve someone like Sophie Devereaux?


	6. Chapter 6

**Honest Man**

White Knight. Black King.

That was the constant decision he had to make nowadays. A thief and an honest man. Sophie was right. He couldn't be both. He could only be one or the other. He wanted to be both though. He wanted to continue this crusade he started. He wanted to make sure the unjust paid for their crimes. He just wasn't quite sure he wanted to be the one responsible anymore.

Ever since his father died, he wanted to make some changes. Jimmy Ford lived by the gun and, metaphorically, died by it. He didn't want to be like his father. He had always wanted to be the honest man. That's what ruined him to begin with. He played it straight and his son died. But being a thief wasn't turning out to be perfect either.

They took down Damien Moreau because they were blackmailed into the job. He got shot twice on the job and that was before their jobs increased in danger. He almost got stabbed with a syringe because of his own reckless behavior. Sophie almost ended up as spattered blood on her apartment walls because of her reputation. Eliot had to fake his death the very first con they pulled in Boston. He had to face his past and show parts of himself he still wasn't ready to deal with. Parker was growing as a person but that was making decisions that had once been easy far too difficult for her to handle. Hardison was brilliant but he overestimated himself to the point where he would be his own downfall if it wasn't for Eliot and Parker. They foiled terrorists and risked their lives every day. He was tired of it.

Sure the clients made everything worthwhile. Their gratitude alone made everything better. Helping people was the only drug he knew that worked better than alcohol. Yet he was starting to feel too old for it. And he had two great examples of the life of a thief.

Archie Leech, Parker's mentor, retired after teaching her everything he knew. He found himself a place to stay and kept mementos of his greatest feats. The old man even came out of retirement upon occasion to help them out when they really needed it.

Jimmy never stopped. He went to prison and immediately started a con as soon as he got out. He had the option of retirement in Galway but it was already too late. He returned for another score all because Latimer and Dubenich decided revenge was best served with a bomb.

Nate didn't want that end, not anymore. He found four people who made him want to see the light of day again. Parker chased away the sad memories of Sam by reminding him of the happy ones. Hardison questioned him and learned from him better than any possible protégé out there. Eliot took time to remind him of the present situation and everything that was going on. And Sophie… well, she reminded him of their past, their present and their future and all of the possibilities they could decide.

He knew the path he was going to choose. It was the same path he always chose. Black King or White Knight? He was always the honest man, though slightly more blemished than before. He was going to be that kind of man again. He just hoped Sophie would be okay with that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Rings**

Shopping for rings should have been the hardest thing in the world. They had decided to do it separately and then come together right before they checked out. Nate was thoroughly surprised by this but he figured he would let it slide. It probably had something to do with the engagement ring he picked out anyway. It wasn't like he knew what the size of the diamond was compared to others. It was just the only one that stood out as something that came closest to describing Sophie in his eyes. It wasn't a perfect description but it was the one that had her saying yes and it only strove to drive his confidence through the roof. For some reason Sophie expected him to find her perfect wedding band as well.

"Remember," she whispered in his ear, definitely pitching her voice sultry low just to make certain he paid careful attention, "Something subtle."

Then she was gone as if she had never been there to begin with.

Why they needed rings he had no idea. It was the worst idea possible for two conmen. Sure they were retiring but that didn't mean their enemies were finished with them. Any minute somebody from their past could drop right on in with every intention of revenge. A ring was a symbol of a loved one, a weakness that could destroy them. He had already lost a wife once and a child to top it off. He wouldn't survive if something happened to Sophie, even if the others constantly reminded him they were a reason to survive.

Yet Sophie insisted on a ring. He surprised more than just her when he suggested they get a matching pair. He never wore one with Maggie. His job dictated that he show no weakness, and a family was a big weakness. Plus he wasn't exactly the ring kind of guy. But Sophie said she wanted a ring, something he was dead positive wasn't going to happen. No matter what, he wanted one that matched hers. And she was stupid enough to agree.

He watched as she retreated to find his perfect ring. It was something else she was dead set on. They would find each other's ring and compare notes afterwards. Nate had a feeling it was the grifter's way of testing their relationship's durability. If they found each other's rings on the first try then fate was telling them to continue. If they didn't, then doubt or something equally bad would form in her head. She didn't even believe in fate but she was letting it dictate them. He was one mastermind who wasn't going to wind up empty handed.

"You want me to help you find the perfect ring?" Parker's smile alone was enough to make the mastermind think twice about asking for her help. She bounced from rafter to rafter before she started naming diamonds, their shapes and what kind she's seen the grifter wear before.

"Where do you come up with this stuff, Parker?" Eliot had growled at her. He was also keenly aware of the meaning behind the diamond cuts and where they came from. He knew which ones were conflict free, a personal requirement of the mastermind.

"What, I'm a thief!"

Hardison giggled at the thief's excited reply. He then came up with every possible combination to fit Eliot's standards and meet Parker's requirements. It's how Nate ended up picking the very store they were in. He knew Sophie could appreciate something where nobody died to get that diamond on her finger. Of course, the mastermind had to make that even more complicated by needed more than three.

"You want diamonds wrapped into the band. Parker wants them heart shaped and over one carrot. Eliot told me how to tell if it's conflict free and I haven't even begun to search for my preferences. You're just gonna have to be patient, man." Hardison cocked his head to the side, big goofy grin plastered to his face. The hacker was almost tickled pink at the play time he was allowed to have. Nate nearly groaned when he realized the hacker was right.

"What should be on it, Hardison?" He asked already wishing he hadn't.

"All three golds," Hardison grinned, "Well, white, yellow and antique. The rose and the green are a bit harder to find and I found a shop that has everything we're looking for. And it's in Portland, baby!"

Nate grinned in satisfaction of his hacker's great work. Then he landed a little dig of his own. "Who are you calling baby again?"

"Baby," Hardison sputtered, "as in the universal… dammit, how old are you? It's not like I'm hitting on you. I know you're taken."

"So you're saying you are interested… in Nate." Eliot jibed.

A fight erupted but Nate didn't care. He got the address, called his fiancé and they immediately made an appointment to get the ball rolling. He didn't even look back to see what happened to get Parker in on the argument. He just said good-bye and left them there.

So, the mastermind thought, what to get the only woman in the world who already has every kind of jewelry imaginable… and has already been through this before.

He didn't know the details about William. He knew they were married and that Sophie loved him very much. He knew she felt guilty for his death and left for some reason she still wasn't comfortable speaking to him about. She did try once.

They were sitting at the breakfast table the night after their engagement. She was wearing his shirt and nothing else. He was trying his hardest to focus on his plateful of food instead of the fact that there was nothing underneath his shirt. He was losing very quickly. Then he noticed her posture change and a fear gripped him he hadn't felt since his boy was taken away from him.

"You're not changing your mind, are you?" He didn't even breathe when he said it. The panic just forced those words out so quickly he didn't even have time to register them. He just knew that that look was very serious and he probably needed to worry.

Then a smile fell on her lips that he had only seen a couple of handful of times before. She placed her hand on his, the one with the ring gleaming on it. She gave him a light squeeze but refused to pull away. Her eyes were suddenly red and the panic returned in full blast for an entirely different reason altogether.

"No," she said, "but I think you should know something."

She paused, signaling that she was thinking about how much to tell him. Her trust issues always went into overdrive when she was about to reveal something about her past. He always had the feeling it was more than guilt over her deeds. It was fear of his disappointment as well.

"Grifters aren't allowed to fall in love," she explained. He released a breath of relief immediately. "It's a weakness and a shortcoming. I've already made that mistake once and with you it's different."

Nate placed his left hand over hers and maintained eye contact. He learned long ago it was key to just let her know he was listening. She never needed anything else.

"William," she chocked on his name and tears swirled in her eyes. The guilt she felt over him was so obvious it made his heart squeeze. "William learned that the hard way. His family even moreso."

She took a deep breath and he detected so much pain in that one moment. His right hand fell out of her grip and found home on her shoulder. He squeezed her gently and inched forward to give her any strength he could.

"I don't want my enemies to take you away," she said, "I will do anything to stop that from happening."

"Ditto," he said, making her laugh just enough to ease the tension for a bit.

"I need you to promise me that you won't do anything stupid if I leave," she whimpered and he was completely unprepared for that, "I need to know that you'll go to the others if you try to find me and that you won't drink yourself to death."

"Sophie…"

Her hand found its way to his lips and silence immediately followed the gesture. Her chocolate eyes were so focused on him that the world could fall to pieces and he wouldn't care. Her moment of vulnerability was just too important.

"I need you to know that I would only ever leave you for your own protection." She shook her head in annoyance but maintained eye contact, very unusual for her. "I'm leaving because… because I care for you and I want you safe. Please promise me you'll do everything to stay safe, Nate."

"I promise," he replied without even a second thought. He knew it was true too. He wouldn't drink himself to death. Maybe a little bit more than he was at current, but never to get himself killed. Besides, he knew the best retrieval specialist in the field, had the best thief at his call and the world's best hacker ready to make him proud.

She only removed her hand and nodded in acceptance. Then, "William didn't make that promise… He didn't get the chance."

He let that go even though he was itching to enquire further. Sophie was in emotional distress and neither one of them fared well then. He just pulled her into him and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Then he promised her they would be different because they were.

A funny feeling in his pocket alerted Nate of the text he just received. He pulled out the funny and smiled at the hacker's question.

Found it yet?

He typed in his reply and was unsurprised to be informed by the hacker that his fiancé had already decided on the perfect one for him. He put his phone back in and gave a curt nod the security camera. Then he turned his attention to the very ring he had been staring at since they entered the store.

At a distance it looked very plain and ordinary. Just a simple diamond encrusted wedding band. Then, as you slowly moved closer to observe it, the detail began to pop up and its beauty shown. The band was diamond encrusted, yes, with circles that were each three quarters of a carrot wide. Little Celtic knots filtered around these simple diamonds in simple elegant waves. The metal looked to be yellow gold with the middle portion of the knots having a red tint. There was nothing else special about the ring. It was just highly elegant in its complicated simplicity. Small diamonds that held the eye but balanced with the carvings around it, a ring of many depths and meanings that took time to decipher. Celtic knots were a symbol of eternity, specifically eternal marriage. Diamonds last forever and are a girl's best friend. The rose gold gave it just the touch of exotic but only enough. Not too much.

"Would you like to try it on?"

He felt the hesitation in the grifter the moment she stepped behind him. She was just as captivated by the ring as he had been the moment they entered the store. She wasn't even in his peripherals but he knew the exact moment she nodded her head yes.

"Size six, please."

The ring expert didn't even hesitate to discuss the piece. He just pulled the ring out and looked completely baffled.

"I've never had a ring already made for the woman to try," he explained as he carefully put the ring on the grifter's finger.

It was almost like that moment in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and damn Hardison for allowing Parker to force them all to watch that marathon as if they weren't too old to do so. The ring went onto the grifter's finger and something magical happened. He envisioned them holding hands on a beach in Europe, chasing her around the roofs of Paris once again. He even pictured the way her white dress would look with wedding band to match. He saw their whole lives ahead of them.

And for once it didn't scare him to run.

He watched the grifter's eyes dance in merriment and didn't even hesitate.

"That's the one," he said.

Sophie turned to him then, guilt flashing all over her features. Tears filled her eyes and panic began to set in. He could tell she was about to run and using everything she had not to do just that. He grabbed her arm just in case.

"What?"

She looked away from him then and damn the pain that one move made. Then her chocolate eyes found his again and it was like they were back at that breakfast table, discussing her past without really trying.

"It's not the right one," she shook her head in misery, "It just can't be."

He grabbed her hand to steady her and felt something cool in it. He frowned in confusion and curiosity. Then he moved to see what it was.

"Don't," She warned, bringing the ring up to her chest protectively.

He stared at her for a moment, forcing eye contact once again. He silently explained that whatever she thought was wrong and he just wanted to see. She gave in but not without reluctance. Her hand shook as she dropped the ring into his own.

It was a simple gold band, very similar to hers in a way. There were no Celtic knots, no diamonds or color variation. It was just a regular gold band, but like hers that was only at the surface. As he examined it closer he noticed a slight mark on it. It was a tiny sliver that only a trained eye could ever detect. A blemish fell on the little gold thing. A mark of red that showed the ring had broken during its original formation process. For whatever reason, the welder decided to use a different gold alloy to fuse it back together. Its elegance was slightly marred… just like him.

He tried the ring on and tried to ignore the sharp intake of breath the grifter made. The ring fit like a glove and the mark shimmered on the top like a beacon. It was perfect in more ways than one.

"It's a perfect fit, Soph," he said, confusion starting to settle in.

"You don't hate it, do you?" She asked, sounding far too frightened for this to only be about the ring, "You don't want to return it and look for another do you?"

"What the…?" He stopped himself just in time. How could a woman like Sophie Devereaux ever think a man as smart as he was be dumb enough to throw her away? Sure he was completely unworthy of her but that didn't mean he was going to let her go. Sometimes her insecurities threw him for a loop, especially when they belonged to someone so indescribable.

"We found the perfect rings on the first try, Soph," He smiled at her, "Even Maggie and I couldn't do that. We traveled to eight stores before we found it and we were only looking for the one. Even your engagement ring took longer."

"So these rings do go together?" She asked, phrasing it perfectly so he would catch her drift without admitting to some emotional issue of her own.

"Something tells me they always did," he winked.

His eyes were enchanted by hers automatically. He captured her gaze and found himself absolutely baffled by how hard it was to look away. Once again he acknowledged that there was nothing on Earth that could force him to pull away. Suddenly her chocolate eyes turned ridiculously cheerful and she turned to the clerk.

"We'll take them."


	8. Chapter 8

**Romantic Getaway**

Choosing a romantic vacation took a lot of negotiating. For most people it required certain standards that needed to be met. A nice hotel room, a lot of dinners at expensive restaurants and gifts were highly recommended. There were always plans that never truly went beyond the planning stage. A couple of scuba diving lessons canceled at the last minute. Some dinners out turn into dinners in that eventually lead to a hearty breakfast in bed. And of course a lovely new assortment of sleepwear that would have many people blushing if seen in public.

This is not how Nate and Sophie chose their romantic getaways. They always had the added fun of which aliases hadn't been burned yet? Are you wanted in this country? Did you and an ex travel here? Can we please actually have a shopping day, Nathan? Yeah, you can imagine the importance each of these questions makes on the trip.

That's why they never took any.

"We can't go to Cannes this year," Sophie remarked lazily, "A certain mark is going to be there promoting a film. The sleazy slimeball actually based it on his encounter with me."

It wasn't very often she would mention her failures. Nate often had to remind her of his triumphs when push came to shove and even those were more of a draw then anything Sterling could have come up with. But sometimes, when they were alone together in bed, she would let something slip. Sometimes she would even admit what went wrong.

This was not one of those times.

"In his defense he has no idea his story is based off of a beautifully perfected crime," Nate replied.

The grifter smiled, pride enveloping her dark eyes. She shrugged her shoulders gently and continued sorting through the magazine clippings. They had so far narrowed it down to twenty-eight countries. Believe it or not, that was great progress for an afternoon.

"Rome could be fun," she said, "We could tour the Vatican and enjoy the art for once."

"Didn't enjoying the art get you in trouble not too long ago?" Nate raised his eyebrows challengingly. "There are still several people with eyes peeled out for you there."

"Well I am quite dazzling to look at." She winked and her smile grew wider.

"You should have stopped with the Second David," he laughed.

"Isn't the point of a Romantic Getaway to be completely spur of the moment?" Parker asked, her voice filled to the brim with curiosity and panic. She apparently was afraid she was getting this message wrong.

"Yeah, but that's next to impossible when you're the world's greatest grifter… and Nate." Hardison said this with a completely straight face. He didn't even bother to look up from his laptop to answer the question. He just kept typing and typing as if there would be no tomorrow. The way the mastermind glared at him definitely pointed to that as a likely outcome.

"You guys do realize you have the best hacker on your payroll, right?" Eliot asked. He was the one completely against them taking a getaway. He didn't want to worry about them. The mastermind wasn't exactly someone who stayed away from trouble. The problem: Sophie was very persuasive.

"The trick of a getaway is to get away from everything," Sophie purred without missing a beat, "That includes nosy hackers and over-protective hitters. Not to mention Parkers with very sticky fingers."

"Nuh-uh," the thief shook her head, "I just had them cleaned. They're completely de-stickified so you and Nate can have a wonderful vacation without us… Can we come too?"

"No!"

She frowned at the unified voices of her other teammates. She was the one who hated it the most when they were separated. It wasn't like she didn't understand the necessity. She just preferred to have everybody together. That was usually why she tracked everybody down, which wasn't very easy, and took a little memento of the occasion. Last time she took a pair of the grifter's underwear. To be fair, it said edible on the packaging.

"Tahiti?" Sophie asked.

Nate stared at her as if she had three heads. Nobody understood why. In fact, the grifter gave him a confused look and tilted her head to the left. She was trying to see where his thoughts were going.

"You died in Tahiti," he explained.

Hardison stopped typing at that. Eliot ground his teeth together and said a few choice words. Parker shuddered and grabbed onto the boys for support. Sophie's cheeks grew bright pink and she bowed her head gently.

"I forgot about that," she said.

"Okay, stop looking," Hardison yelled. He was probably going to have a heart attack soon. "No more talking about dead grifters or previous crimes. I've booked the two of you a flight that has everything you could ever want. You'll have absolute privacy and I even made it so you don't have to leave your bedroom unless you want to. Now, pack your bags for warm weather or whatever it is you plan to do and ya'll better not say anything nasty or I will bankrupt you!"

The grifter and mastermind shared a look. It shouldn't have been as full of pride as it was. It definitely should not have been filled with relief. The gratitude was totally expected though. They grabbed their bags, already packed because they were somewhat spontaneous in the planning of it. Then they left for some unknown location their hacker deemed worthy.

Of course, they were going to kill him when they found out he picked San Lorenzo.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Rundown Job**

"He got shot?" Sophie's expression went through a variety of changes as she absorbed that information. First concern flittered across her features but it didn't feel like staying for too long. Worry took a leap forward and immediately contorted into fear. That fear didn't even get a true moment on the grifter's face before it too was knocked out. Now her eyes were black with anger and her fingers were flying. Yep, he knew this was going to happen.

"They were supposed to be dropping off diamonds." She yelled dog-whistle style. "How hard is it to drop off diamonds? But no! No, they have to go and find themselves a brand new case all out of the blue that risks not only their lives but the lives of the entire world. Oh no! Some stupid scientist is about to unleash the old Spanish Flu onto the world and create another pandemic. Let's not tell Nate and Sophie and solve this ourselves without any back-up. It's not like we could possibly die in the crossfire or anything."

"Sophie, it's not exactly like we would make it in time to be help anyway."

If looks could kill… well, the mastermind would be splattered all across the back of the restaurant and pub. Sophie Devereaux was not a happy camper and he just made the worse life-threatening decision of his life.

"I mean, what was their plan?" She was pacing now. Pretty soon she would be looking for a gun and the others would be on their own thank you very much. "Did they even have a plan? Probably not considering Eliot got shot twice!"

"That was actually part of their plan," Nate said because let's face it, sometimes he really was an idiot, "Eliot was the distraction while Parker went to burn off the flu bomb."

"Flu bomb?" uh oh, he knew that look.

He smiled and tried to think of an appropriate response. The only thing that came out was, "Hardison was the one who actually stepped on a bomb."

He had fifteen seconds before the grifter reacted. Then Nate was out of his chair and pulling the gun out of the grifter's hands. She was explaining, in several languages by the way, of all the wonderful things she was going to do with the gun. Thankfully her chosen weapon did not hold enough bullets for such torture but he certainly wasn't going to put it past her to have more.

"I'm going to kill them!" She said.

He took the gun from her ninja grip and held it high above her head. She gave him another death glare, crossed her arms and huffed. He tried his best not to feel guilty.

"They made the right decision," he said.

"They almost got themselves killed."

"We do that on a daily basis."

"We do it as a team or have you forgotten the last time somebody ignored his team and did something completely stupid which led to an entire year of chasing after one of the biggest criminal warlords in the world."

Ooh, that was a good move. He'd almost forgotten what verbal chess was like with Sophie. Since their relationship blossomed, their fights had been nothing more than coupley squabbles that didn't need reason or thought. But when they did fight, it was still just as explosive.

"You said it yourself." He chose his next words very carefully. "Baby birds learning how to fly."

He watched her black eyes turn chocolate as her temper cooled.

"Those birds just flew," he finished.

He thought he had won. For just a minute he'd completely forgotten who usually ended up the victor and actually thought he won. But that temper of hers flashed right before his eyes and he knew a whole new argument was taking place. It was the one they had been fighting for most of the year.

"They made several mistakes with that, Nate," she said, "They nearly got each other killed. What would they have done if their plan didn't work? If one of them actually died? You know as well as I how important it is to have several plans in place."

"I'm pretty certain your just being picky now," he laughed, "Remember how I just waltzed straight into that house with no back-up and straight into the killer's arms?"

"Well you're an idiot." She slapped him on the shoulder just to prove her point, "They are smart enough to know better. And you're very good a guessing. You knew I would follow you."

"If only to tell me what an idiot I am," the mastermind nodded. Good, she was calming down. That was progress.

"I'm still going to kill them," she huffed. And that was the end of it. No more fighting. No more fear. She was finally accepting the truth.

Nate pulled her into a hug and made a promise he knew would be kept. "We'll teach them about all of the angles. We'll make it so they can see more than just what's in front of them. We've already given them the basics. We'll just push them a little harder."

"Our roles have to be reduced," she agreed. But her grip on his back only tightened. He could feel the worry vibrating off of her.

"They'll be fine," he promised, "They've got you to teach them."

"What about you?"

He smiled wryly and thought of a million replies to that one question. Then he shrugged his shoulders and picked the best one. He was going to get a smile out of her if it was the last thing he did.

"Do you know any greater example of what not to do than me?"

She laughed and nodded her hand. Her blinding smile was back in full swing. It was just as perfect as always. He probably shouldn't have kissed her afterwards. They were totally having a tongue battle at the most inopportune time. When was she eating strawberries?

"Oh, ya'll nasty!"

Of course, the three youngest members would choose that moment of all moments to enter the room. And the grifter's expression immediately changed back to anger.

Yep, there was about to be a lot of screaming.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Bank Shot Job**

There was one solid moment, as he and the judge are making their way back through the crowded bank lobby, when his heart stopped. He didn't know why and there was a bizarre warning buzzing in his head. He turned, trying to understand what it was he saw. It wasn't something from his peripheral that finally made him understand.

One of the men had a shotgun.

That fear piercing his chest slowly grew as all of the possibilities began to flitter through his mind. That gun meant a bank robbery. Somebody else was committing a felony right under his nose and his good guy mind couldn't allow that to happen.

A slight movement drew his eyes immediately. Sophie's head was shaking, signaling him; no yelling at him to leave as quickly as possible before he blew their cover. A fresh form of panic fell on him as an image of her with a bullet in the head came to mind. Suddenly stopping the robbers wasn't on the table. She was more important.

"We gotta get out of here," he said, knowing the judge was going to make some stupid remark and not caring.

He was too focused on the grifter and how quickly she was connecting the dots. His breath caught for a different reason as she rose to her feet. He couldn't help being impressed by how much quicker she was at connecting dots. It was one of the many reasons why he brought her into this team to begin with.

Then the security officer passed her and another image flashed across his mind. He saw himself standing outside the bank with the doors being locked right behind him. He could see Sophie looking at him through the glass and begging him to run. He could see the hole growing in her abdomen and blood ruining every bit of clothing on her. He saw himself being a door away from her the entire time.

He tried to get his feet to move when he heard Hardison's comment about a few more steps for the plan to be done and over with. The fear that gripped his heart when the security officer pulled the gun stopped him. His eyes searched for Sophie's, begging her to stay in eye sight throughout this entire event. Her black eyes almost looked enraged by the demand.

"This is a bank robbery." The cliché bounced in his head and told him this wasn't quite professional. A true stick up would be much smoother than this. The gun wouldn't even have been seen by anybody but the teller. No, these two were not professionals and that made them too dangerous.

He kept his eyes on the grifter every inch of the way. Then a thought pulled through his mind.

There was an unmarked black van parked right in front of the bank.

"Get out, now!"

The fact that Hardison was confused by the order really wasn't something he needed to hear. His energy was focused on other, more pressing matters. Sophie was in eye sight, as promised, but she was still too far away to talk without being conspicuous. He could practically see the way her mind was looking for an exit that wouldn't get the both of them killed.

"Don't be an idiot, Hardison. Sophie was still in there."

Those words bounced through his mind and he realized just what kind of a mistake he made. It was blatantly obvious he cared for Sophie. It had to be for Parker to pick up on that fact and use it as his reason for staying behind, a stupid move he was going to pay for later. Eliot had nothing on Sophie.

Later, when they were safely away and his shoulder didn't ache quite as much. He was still unprepared for the onslaught that came.

"Ow!"

She pressed her hand into his shoulder with far more force than she had in the bank.

"I hope you remember that the next time you decide to play the white knight."

He tried to come up with a witty retort. But the pain was too much at the moment so he gave her a giant glare instead. She looked completely unfazed and ready to kill.

"You should have left, Nate," she said, her voice like a whip to his mind, "You almost ruined the deal right then and there with that stunt. And where would we be then, huh?"

Nate decided not to reply back as angrily as he wanted to.

"You were still in there," he said.

She gave him a scathing look, one that probably would have made smarter men cower and wither away into nothingness. Thankfully he was used to being on the receiving end of her death glares. Then she moved towards his ear and he poised himself for the final assault. Her voice was the true weapon, he learned that long ago.

"You know," she said, "for such a smart man… you really can be quite thick. Thieves don't look back. They carry on with the deal and trust their partner to do their job."

"With thieves there is no trust, only opportunity."

He felt the slight chuckle those few words erupted within the grifter. She was so close that he was acutely aware of the breath on his neck that did not belong to him. Her hair had somehow come loose because it was tickling his shoulder. She smelled like honey and vanilla, his two favorite scents.

Yep, those drugs were definitely kicking in. he was forgetting himself a little too much.

"I guess it's a good thing you're not a thief," she said.

She had somehow already made her way to her feet and was walking towards the door. She only paused at the door because he managed to clear his throat. Her black eyes found his and the world stopped.

"Too bad you're not an honest citizen," he replied.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Gimme a 'K' Street Job**

"So… Fort Devereaux, huh?"

Sophie smiled at the mastermind's teasing tone. Her chocolate eyes turned towards him and the smile only seemed to grow. She patted him on the chest and giggled.

"I couldn't exactly resist," she winked.

"Well you did earn it with the constant grifting just to get everything done," Nate laughed, "I just wish I could have seen it. I've always loved to watch you work."

"Maybe if you behave I might allow you to watch me work at Fort Devereaux," she said, putting just enough sexiness into her voice to make him think about the offer.

"I've got plans that day actually," he admitted, waving a plane ticket in his very cheeky hands, "I turned your one ticket into two."

"Really?" She smiled despite herself, "How did you pull that off?"

"I've got this hacker friend who does wonders with a computer."

She laughed at the smug look on his face. It was almost as if he had stolen the most expensive artwork in the world. Yet there was a cold undertone to his cheery behavior. She could barely make out Eliot in the distance, giving the mastermind a warning glare. This brought about another point to mind.

"What are you planning?" She asked, carefully making her voice as uninterested as possible.

His eyebrows slowly rose and his cheery façade faded away. "What makes you think I'm planning something?"

An involuntary sigh fell from her lips at that one. "You're Nathan Ford," she said, "you're always planning something."

He gave her a look, one that was slowly calculating her every move and thought. Then his eyes shifted to the grifter still giving him a pretty impressive scowl. He turned back and found matching narrowed eyebrows and an even more impressive frown of disappointment from the grifter he was with.

"You're not going to tell me even though you know where your secret plans usually end up," she acknowledged with a curt, strained nod.

A moment of guilt flashed across his eyes quickly followed by the mask she taught him to put on. His hands went to his pockets, a tell that he wasn't sure how much information she needed to know. His nose bent down towards his toes, a sign that he was considering running away from this conversation altogether. Then his blue eyes found hers again and stubbornness resumed.

"This one won't end with a bullet," he replied, obviously choosing his words very carefully, "But I can guarantee emotional distress."

She nodded her head, annoyed by the information received but the fact that he was willing to give up that much was more progress than she had ever expected over the past five years. She decided to put aside her thoughts of all their destruction and focus on the present. The present was always safer than the future anyway. Well, it was a lot easier to discern the possibilities.

"What would you like to do while we're at Fort Devereaux?" She asked instead, hoping he would take the olive branch she gave him and run with it. He did not.

"I'm positive the emotional distress won't be bad distress…" He stammered, looking for just the right word at the absolutely wrong time yet again, "I'm hoping its good distress, like a mildly but pleasantly surprised distress."

"Whatever it is," she remarked, "I trust you."

She played with the lapels of his jacket just to keep her fingers busy. The last thing she wanted to do was steal his wallet and gain the answers that way but her fingers still itched to do so like in the old days when they were not partners in crime.

"I know you'll have our backs no matter what." She forced eye contact to be sure her threat had the appropriate affect. "If the others get hurt I swear I will kill you myself and I know somebody who enjoys torture more than Eliot."

He at least had the common decency to swallow and look fearful. But a smile cracked up his lips and his palm somehow found its way to her cheek. She tried her best not to immediately respond to the feeling of his thumb rubbing patterns on her chin. Then she allowed her eyes a moment to close and enjoyed it. Her eyes popped back open in shock the moment his lips found her forehead.

"I promise they won't get hurt," he said, sounding far more honest than she ever remembered him being, "I won't let that happen. I won't let anything bad happen this time, Soph. I promise."

She stared into his eyes and found a whole new world of possibility shimmering in them. There was something very important he wasn't telling her and he chose not to tell her for a reason. But danger was most definitely not it. His eyes were shining too brightly, giving him too much of a boyish look. The shining light almost looked like happiness. Whatever it was he was hiding, it wasn't meant to be bad. She just hoped everything actually went according to plan.

"You still haven't answered my question," she said, "What are we going to do at Fort Devereaux? I was only supposed to be there one day. My ticket says we will be there for a week."

"You see," Nate grinned towards her, appearing more boyish once again, "I have plans."

"Plans," Sophie shook her head, "Are we planning on sticking to them this time around?"

"It depends." Nate's arms suddenly came around her, in public, and a mischievous glint pooled in his eyes. "My plans include being inside most of the time… eating of course."

"Of course," Sophie nodded, enjoying the idea a little too much.

"Maybe a movie or two in between," he winked, "A romantic getaway of sorts."

Sophie nearly jumped out of her skin. She did jump back enough to get the mastermind's eyes to shadow with worry though. She tried to give an apologetic expression but all she could do was focus on keeping her knees from quaking. Nathan Ford didn't do romantic getaways.

"What is it?" She demanded her voice barely even a whisper. Her mind was already buzzing with the multiple possibilities. Cancer was first on her list. "What's wrong, Nate?"

The mastermind stared at her in shock before his eyes regained that twinkle of amusement. She was so happy to know his impending death was amusing. Then his hand once again found its way to her cheek and his eyes got serious again.

"Nothing's wrong, Sophie," he said, "I really just want a romantic getaway."

"You don't do romantic getaways." She pointed a finger at him and jabbed it into his chest just to make her point. "You do everything you can to avoid them. You try your hardest to find a way to make the very idea of romance disappear-"

"Unless it's for a con," he finished.

Sophie's frown only deepened at that admission. She was too busy now, trying to avoid the fear of his death while simultaneously getting her own emotions under control. She really wanted to throttle him for timing this conversation in public, with witnesses.

His arms wrapped around her and he was once again staring her in the eyes with solid determination.

"This isn't a con," he said, "I've already proven I can be charming when I want to be and I want to be. You deserve that, Soph. It's nothing more than giving you something you deserve. Besides, you've already gotten something named after you. I figured the best I could do was offer you a nice indoor break from everything."

"Yes, but that could be done here on a weekend." She held up the plane ticket menacingly, "This is a week, Nathan. What are we going to do for a week? I refuse to stay inside an entire week."

"I figured we'd add to your impressive shoe selection." His eyes went wide when he realized just how bad that sounded, him volunteering to assist her shoe addiction. "Or clothes, I would prefer clothes. Well, that's a lie because I would prefer you to never wear clothes but I'm not trying to make this sound like I'm dying, Sophie."

She chuckled, in relief and pain and humor at the baffling man before her. She put a hand on his cheek and he just stopped, catching her eyes and mirroring her mirth softly. The babbling was something he always did when he was trying to be romantic and express some secret feeling she could already read in his expression. It was time to give him a break.

"Alright," she said, "I guess we'll have a very lovely week in the Gulf. But I will not be forgetting about that promise of shoes, Mr. Ford."

"I know," he smiled again.

For some reason they just kept smiling at each other, eyes connecting automatically. The room just fell away and nothing else seemed to matter. A tight knot finally fell away in the grifter's stomach. It felt almost as though her world was finally righted for good.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Radio Job**

Sophie was absolutely beside herself. She could sense the stress of everything in a matter of minutes. Her blood was boiling and she was moments away from killing Nathan Ford… Though she was considering asking Eliot to do it.

He stood her up. Nathan Ford, the man with a plan and a solution to everything, stood her up. They had this date planned for months. He even agreed not to take on any jobs around that time. And he brought her breakfast in bed that very morning. They were finally going to have a date that was not con related.

And he stood her up.

"Ooh, the nerve of that man!" She practically shouted on the elevator ride up to the apartment. Boy, that man was going to have a piece of her mind.

She had the speech all prepared. She even started out with it, earning high marks in her opinion. They had been on that list for ages. He was emotionally unavailable but always punctual. Then he said the only thing in the world that could put her on edge.

"It's personal."

Personal… personal meant emotional distress. Emotional distress meant a plan with zero back-ups. No back-ups meant he was going to get sloppy. When Nathan Ford got sloppy, somebody ended up shot. "It's personal" was very, very bad.

%%%%%%

She was right. She really hated it when she was right, especially when it pertained to Nate and emotional distress.

His father's gone and it was all because of him. At least that was what he was thinking right then as he drove at breakneck speed to some place he refused to tell anybody about. He had only become aware of his surroundings an hour ago. In that moment she was faced with more surprises than she ever expected from Nathan Ford, mastermind of surprises and clichés.

The first thing he did when he sat in the van was grab her hand. She was absolutely startled but she didn't focus on that for too long. He just witnessed his father die in an explosion and could have lost his own life in the process. Maybe it was her own nerves talking but she couldn't find a reason in the world that would get her away from his side in that moment.

When they made it to a safe house, Nate admitted that he couldn't see. Eliot then nodded and motioned Hardison to help him guide Nate into the building. All she did was let go of his hand for a microsecond and he pitched a fit. His fingers grasped the air until her hand found his again. Then he pulled her into him as if his world fully resided on her shoulders.

The fear she felt in that moment was very visible on the other three's faces. Then Eliot cracked a smile and said something she never expected.

"I forgot about your compass."

She wondered how he knew about that. She had never before mentioned Nate calling her that. The mastermind didn't even know she heard it. Sure it was crackly and she could only make out a few things but being his compass was definitely the one she keyed in on. How did Eliot know about that?

"Don't worry, Nate," Eliot whispered, thinking it was only loud enough for the mastermind to hear, "I won't let anything happen to her."

Sophie felt herself compelled to ask why it mattered. Thankfully she was smart enough not to. The looks she would have gotten from the other three if they knew she was absolutely clueless about Nathan Ford's feelings towards her. She still wasn't sure what was real and what was inside her head.

But his hand was steady in hers and he could somehow walk with only her at his side. Eliot looked a little bit like he couldn't fathom it. Hardison was staring at her like she was some sort of god. Parker was completely unfazed.

"Honestly, I'm surprised he didn't try to kill Eliot to make certain Sophie was fine," she said at some point during the walk to the couch.

"Not now, Parker," Nate ordered but he seemed to be gaining something from her hand and she was more concerned by that than happy. She couldn't figure out why until the conniption he had when Eliot said he wasn't going to allow him to go.

"Sophie's coming with me, end of story!" He growled, bolting towards the door and then hesitating at the door. He waited there for a few minutes before his blue eyes found her. He looked almost impatient. "You're coming, right?"

She was so stunned that she almost forgot how to speak. Her mouth was very dry and her emotions were in overdrive. Tears stretched into her eyes and she found herself nodding and moving all in one fluid motion. She was aware enough to grab her purse before she was following him through the door. She remembered Eliot threatening Nate's life should anything happen to her but then Nate's hand grabbed onto hers and answers seemed to leave her behind.

Now they were passing the Ohio State line and looking as though there was no plan to stop. She wanted to ask where they were going but she was too afraid of the answer. She didn't want to know and she didn't want to have her suspicions confirmed. Dubenich wasn't that stupid.

"You're not coming with me when we stop by the prison," Nate said, reading her thoughts once again, "I want to talk to Dubenich alone."

She was so stunned by the fact that he was talking that the truth slipped out. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"You know why you have to come with me." He said that like a statement, like there was no reason for doubt in why she was his escort for the unexpected drive. Again, only the truth seemed to come out.

"You're afraid I'm going to disappear on you like your father."

They were on the highway and Sophie was dead certain that was the only reason he didn't slam on the brakes in that moment. The way his hands shook on the steering wheel was enough.

"I chose you," he said and she knew instantly what he meant.

"I chose you and Dubenich didn't. He knows you're important to me because I sought you out. He's going to do everything in his power to come after you…"

"You need to know I'm safe," she nodded, "but you know keeping me with Eliot is the safest place in the world. You're afraid."

"I'm not afraid, Soph."

His tone made the real meaning clear. Her heart squeezed in horror and anger at that kind of thought. The memory of their interrupted date floated through her mind.

_I know you're sitting in a restaurant eating alone and ducking my call but I promise I'll make it up to you, Soph-_

"I have half a mind to demand you to pull over so I can walk back home where I belong," she huffed.

And much to her surprise he did pull over. He put his blinkers on and slammed off the engine. Then he exited the car as if he was looking for something wrong with it. She just stayed put because curiosity always was the thing that would get her killed. She also had a sickening thought that he was trying to compose himself for her. She was afraid of what he would do if she did leave.

She watched him as he circled the car. It only took her seconds to realize he was looking for some secret bomb to explode around them. She realized a second too late that he was paying too much attention on her side of the vehicle. He thought there was a bomb meant for her. Dubenich was good but he wasn't that good.

She nearly screamed when the mastermind returned to the car. She did gasp when those blue eyes connected to hers, hatred barely contained.

"I don't need an excuse to kill him, Soph," he admitted softly, "I just need to know I'm not alone."

That was a lie and she wanted to call him on it right on the spot. But it was the way he looked at her that stayed her tongue. It wasn't hatred as she originally thought. It was panic.

_You're my compass._

"You need me," she gasped, the only thing of that memory she heard loud and clear before the phone disconnected and became an absolutely rubbish instrument of communication.

His hand was gentle when it grabbed onto hers. His shaking thumb was steady as it rubbed against her palm. His eyes were filled with so much emotion he looked like he was going to explode. He needed her alright. And he just figured out how much because of the bomb that killed his father.

"You stay out of play unless I tell you otherwise," he said, "I don't want you arguing with me on this one. I need you to be prepared to run if I tell you to as well. I don't care about you leaving the others behind either. I just need to know that you're gone. Eliot will follow protocol once that happens."

"Protocol?" The familiar fire was burning under her veins again.

"Plan Z," he explained, "The only plan in the world I don't like to use. Have you ever wondered why?"

"It's the plan I die in," she nodded filling in the blanks just as quickly as he would.

He nodded and held her hand a little bit tighter, almost possessively so.

"Promise me you'll run."

"I'm not leaving them behind. I won't betray them again, Nathan."

There was a brief smile of pride growing on his face then. He looked like the world just gave him the Christmas Present of a lifetime. Then the smile was gone and back into the darkness he went. Life was starting to show off the bruises it gave him. Still, there was a small sliver of light in his eyes and she would fight off the world to bring him into its warm embrace again.

"I promise, Nate."

He nodded his head and off they went to Rockford, Illinois. Their past was coming back and vengeance really was a… well, it was coming up for blood.

Only this time it wasn't just Dubenich seeking it.


	13. Chapter 13

**The Toy Job**

"Are you available?"

Their mark asked that with a straight face. He actually sounded sure he was going to win the grifter over too. He even had the smug grin of satisfaction when she said she was married.

"I didn't ask that. I asked if you were available."

Nate could sense the annoyance in her voice when she gave her answer. Honestly, he wasn't expecting her to say she was married. He was expecting her to give a firm no. The married thing was probably just to test the waters and see what kind of man he was. Her lovely wave off was definitely meant to keep him dangling. Unfortunately, there were private matters in mind that made this whole situation extremely funny.

Eliot caught his smirk before he even had time to hide it.

"Hardison, wrap it up. Soph, I'll be in my office when you're ready. We've got reservations at eight. Don't be late. If anybody needs me, I'm off coms."

He removed his earbud and made a beeline away from the hitter's appraising gaze. He knew he only had a matter of minutes before he would be bombarded with questions he wasn't exactly ready to answer. He had other plans that took priority.

"You know, that's a very distinctive smirk."

Nate's hand automatically betrayed him. It shot towards his right pocket before he even had time to think. The weight of the tiny box made itself known as he realized his mistake. He quickly straightened his shirt and made it appear as if that was the original intent. Then he turned around and planted an innocent smile on his face.

"You know I love Sophie's work," he said, "I'm her biggest fan."

Eliot's eyes twinkle and a smile was tugging at his lips. He flipped his hair, a feat considering how short it was. He crossed his arms against his chest. Then he allowed his eyes to linger on the pocket with the box.

"How long have you had it?" He asked.

Nate swallowed and debated how much he should say. Then he remembered who the hitter was and what he meant to him. It was Eliot after all. His secret would be safest with him, unless somebody got hurt but that was another story.

"I said I had plans," the mastermind replied, crossing his arms to mimic his interrogator. Eliot hated when he did that.

"So that's why you took the boat trip." Eliot sighed, "I knew six months was a little too long for you to be sorting yourself out."

"Sophie only told you that so you would have your ears open. You know how worried she gets."

Eliot laughed. "It's your own damn fault," he said, "You keep getting yourself into trouble. What is she supposed to expect?"

A comfortable silence filled the room. They were both measuring each other out. Eliot wanted more information and Nate wanted to see how far he would go to get it. They were pretty much tied.

"You doing it tonight?"

The thought had crossed his mind. In fact, the longer he had the ring the heavier it became. There were moments when he and Sophie were lying in bed where he would almost reach into the nightstand and surprise her. Once he actually did. He quickly snatched up his old handcuffs and dragged them out when she questioned his actions. He never did get tired of that naughty look in her eyes.

"No," he finally replied.

The hitter stared at him, his eyes calculating. Then his smirk disappeared and was replaced with worry. His arms fell loose to his side. He stepped forward and hesitated slightly.

"Are you afraid of what she'll say?" He asked.

"No." The answer ripped off of Nate's tongue before he even thought about it. He knew it was true though so he let it slide. Eliot was getting there. It would only be a matter of time.

A scowl was his reply.

"There's no such thing as the perfect damn moment, Nate." He growled, "Just man up and ask her already. You two have been dancing around each other for years. It's about time you two picked the same orbit and stuck with it."

"You're wrong." Nate smiled as the scowl deepened. "I'm not waiting for the perfect moment. As I said before, I have plans. I'm trying to stick to them and she's making it difficult."

"Good," Eliot laughed, "I hope you fail."

And that was the end of their marriage conversation.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Two-Horse Job**

"You didn't back my plan."

Sophie almost rolled her eyes at the sound of betrayal in his voice. Her hand had only just touched the doorknob and that was the moment he spoke. It said too much about what kind of person he really was. He waited until the last minute to let something that was nawing away at his nerves all day come out and fester into the open air. It spoke volumes.

"I didn't back you, you mean."

She turned her head and had to fight rolling her eyes yet again. He was so predictable. The great Nathan Ford was sitting at the head of the conference room table, his designated spot from the very beginning as a symbol of his status within the group. The bastard acted like it was the most important thing in the world, to have control over the leash of four of the world's greatest thieves.

"You backed Eliot instead," Nate said, gently inkling his head forward just enough to admit to the hidden meaning. It had always been like that for them. There was never a day where they both didn't have at least three conversations in one. The numbers only seemed to climb since they began working together… with a team as well as each other.

She really shouldn't have been surprised by the hurt in his eyes. It had been there since he came for her back in Chicago. Really, it had been his driving force behind every con he even bothered to perform. The alcohol usually dulled its florescent glow, the excuse he used for his drinking. Still, she never thought she would be so struck by the intensity of hurt and betrayal shimmering in his eyes right then and there at that table… their table.

"Nate-" she began but her thoughts stopped at that. It wasn't like she really needed to finish them anyway. He read her mind perfectly.

"You always backed my plan," he growled, showing some of that anger he'd been holding since his son's tragic death. "But this time you sided with Eliot."

_I could always count on you to be there for me._ That's what he meant. She knew it. She could feel those words on the tip of his tongue. When she had earned such trust from him she never knew, but it somehow happened. A grifter of her caliber should have been quite proud of such an achievement. Instead it only made her fearful. He needed to learn when to properly put his faith in someone. A thief was the absolute worst mistake.

"Eliot was in the right and you know it." She couldn't help the quick chiding remarks. A fire was burning under her skin that she couldn't control around him. It had slowly started building since the day she discovered what kind of a drunk he was. The same day she began to discover how much of the old Nathan Ford had truly died with his son.

His blue eyes shifted away from her and to the empty glass in his hand. His fingers wiggled loosely as if they were itching for another drink. That was his physical cue that the conversation got too close to being personal. He was going to change the subject, something more in his comfort zone. He was going to turn it back to her and her personal life. Then his eyes connected with hers and the verbal conversation changed to cheery and cunning.

"You said something about proving yourself." I know what you're hiding but I'm giving you the benefit of coming clean.

This time she did roll her eyes, a very obvious sign of _you are annoying me with your lack of emotional depth, you annoying son of a bitch._

She had enough time to turn around before he gave into temptation and stood to his feet. He poured himself a giant helping of whiskey and had too much enjoyment in the taste of the stuff. He still kept his back to her though, a sure sign of guilt if she ever saw it.

"What do you have to prove?" He asked, turning to her only when it was convenient for him. Another sign of, _I'm keeping you at a distance because I know what's happening and refuse to believe it. You won't make me admit or become anything so quit psycho analyzing me and answer my question._

Two could play at that game.

"I already told you," she replied_. I'm afraid you're going to have to do better than that to catch me. Besides, psycho analyzing you is what I do._

"No," he smiled and actually stepped towards her, "You told me you had to prove something to yourself. I just want to know what."

He was testing her and they both knew it. She even had a cunning reply for him and knew he was ready for the thrust back into his personal life. But lines had to be crossed and the only way to do that was to softly admit that pride was an issue on both sides.

"If I can do it," she replied enigmatically.

She watched him process the hidden meaning and almost smiled at the shock on his face. Nathan Ford completely baffled by the idea that a thief actually wants to stop being a thief, never thought I'd see the day.

"The good guy thing, of course," she explained further to help him along.

The look he gave her then was completely unexpected and baffling. It took her breath away.

He looked at her with the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. His lips were set in a firm line and his jaw softened. He almost looked like an innocent young boy the way he was staring at her then.

"You have always been an angel, Soph." He said it with such honest conviction that she was willing to forgive him for every bad thing he'd done since this little crew came together. But something inside her sensed a trap and wouldn't stand it if she didn't immediately address it.

"An angel of sin, I suppose."

She was about to step away and play it off like a joke, but his hand latched onto her arm. His blue eyes fell on her with such fear that her head began to spin. His face was inches away from hers and his breath was on hot on her lips. He'd never gotten so close so quickly before.

"You have no idea what kind of savior you really are," he said in such a tone that left no question what was going on between them.

She was about to call it on him when the guilt flashed before his eyes. He suddenly looked at her arm as if it were on fire. Then he released it and raced to the safety of his drink and the courage he apparently found at the bottom of the bottle.

She wanted to yell at him for that. She wanted to throw her coat and purse and punish him for being so cruel. But one look at how disheveled he'd become stayed her tongue. Her breath grew slow and her blood felt cold. He was shaking because he admitted he liked her in a way he hadn't liked anyone but his ex-wife before. He wasn't ready for that and he knew it. But he still admitted it because it was something she needed to know.

Yet the road they were heading towards was slowly starting to meet a dead end. They were both doomed for the fork in the road.

At least if they stayed like this.

"You should go," his voice was rough and rude, exactly as they started. "We've got another job in the morning and you'll need to be at your best."

_You betrayed me._

That read loud and clear and all she did was support another teammate over him.

"You're acting childish," she replied, "You would have done the same thing if our positions were reversed."

"You only did it because of Amy."

That slap hurt worse than was probably intended. He knew she only did it because Eliot's love for Amy was very similar to whatever it was between them. But the way he looked when he turned towards her made that fire zing back to life.

_Thank God our positions weren't reversed_ was what he meant. _And Eliot and Amy are nothing like us_ is what his tone said. His face admitted what he never could. _I'd always come back for you._

"You need to learn that I am the mastermind and what I say goes," he growled to her, drinking as he spoke, "or you will no longer be a part of my team."

She wanted to yell at him for that but she recognized something. That gnawing in the pit of her stomach, the ache that refused to go away since the beginning of their conversation; it was guilt. He brought guilt back into her life like he had a right to do that. And why did she feel guilty. Backing Eliot was the right thing to do and they both knew it. She had no reason to feel responsible.

But the words behind his last statement were running through her mind as she left him alone to nurse his pride in the office that day.

_You're supposed to back me no matter what._

And yet, she wasn't sure if she could.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Two Live Crew Job**

She was holding a bomb. Nathan Ford expected to see many things when he walked into Sophie Devereaux's apartment. Several men with guns point at her, an old friend looking for a way in. Hell, he even expected to find her ex-boyfriend groveling at his feet, as he rightfully deserved to be. A bomb was not on the list and the mastermind wished it had been.

There were so many things going through is mind. Who did this? Why you? Is it someone from your past? Is it someone from my past? What type of bomb is it? Why the hell wasn't it Eliot holding the damn bomb? Many things were running through his mind. Yet, the first thing that popped out of his mouth was:

"How are you doing?"

How did he think she was doing? She was holding a bomb and was stuck waiting for somebody to rescue her. How long had she been standing there and what would have happened if Eliot didn't reach her on her com?

He swallowed as the thought of what would have happened if she hadn't had her com crossed her mind. They would have come for her but they definitely would have been too late. Her tiny body would have been blown to pieces, scattered throughout the room and decorating her pretty walls.

They spent precious minutes discussing where she was instead of coming for her.

He couldn't help but look a little closer at the bomb. He could barely hear what Eliot and Hardison were saying. It was enough to know it was a bomb that relied on movement to go off. He could practically envision all of the things that could go wrong if she sneezed or coughed. Why the hell did the person have to give her flowers?

A quick motion to his left forced him to act. He latched onto the impending object before he even had time to register what it was.

"Parker, please don't poke at the motion sensitive bomb," Sophie said.

Nate realized he was holding a tiny wrist immediately. He knew it was Parker's because the wrist was dainty and cold. The thief had poor circulation in her hands and they were always colder than the rest of her. She didn't even give him a look or comment at how quickly he responded. That was fine by him. He wouldn't be able to tell her anyway. Sophie was holding a bomb and all.

_Who is responsible for this?_

"So," he paused as he searched for the right word that didn't show how panicked he was, "secret admirer?"

"Well, it's no secret they want me dead."

She had a point there. God, he could use a drink. This was one of those times where being drunk would have come in handy. He certainly would be able to function. Sophie was holding a bomb and he was standing on the sidelines. He was pretty certain there was nothing he could do.

Hardison was the one who asked Eliot what to do. It should have been him but he was busy. He chose to ignore the little look Eliot gave him before responding. He knew the younger man was deciding how well he would handle this.

_No, he's thinking about what you're going to do when she dies! _His inner voice was a cruel little monster when it wanted to be_. He knows the chances of her surviving this and he's counting her off. Why aren't you yelling at him? You know her better than he does! You know what she can do. Tell them she's going to survive._

He probably would have if he didn't sound so panicked in his own mind. Then Parker came up with the brilliant idea of pudding and he wanted to kiss her on the mouth. The pudding was a liquid solid. It would act like a cushion. It would allow Sophie to move.

Eliot mentioned little wiggle room and a cold sensation enveloped his heart. A lump of lead very similar to the one he had when Sam was diagnosed took over. The mastermind knew that feeling well. It was the feeling of dread that made him drink. The feeling that made him hate every morning. And the reason he loved them was holding a bomb.

"What's the plan, Eliot?" He asked because he didn't have one. This wasn't his area. He was way out of his depth and too emotionally involved. He probably wouldn't even be able to calculate or see anything but that bomb and his grifter for a long while too.

"How fast can you run?"

Nate watched as Sophie's eyes blew wide in understanding. She was the only other team member accepting the chances of her death. In fact, she seemed more certain she was going to die than the hitter. It impulsively made fire burn in the mastermind's veins.

_How dare she write herself off when they were so close to getting her out alive? Didn't she realize how important to the world she was? To him?_

That thought startled him. He forgot about everything and for once was his old self again. He didn't care about the harm that would come to him. He didn't care about the harm that would come to the others. No, he only cared about Sophie and the harm her death would do to him. He was changing alright. Just like Sophie. Only he was turning into a selfish bastard.

And she was ordering everyone to get out.

"I'm gonna stay with Sophie!" As if they expected anything else. He was a selfish man. They were all starting to learn that. They knew he couldn't bear the thought of her dying without him by her side. She probably even knew why, not that he would ever tell her. He just needed to be with her and see this through. He was too much of a control freak to leave her behind.

He felt the others leaving and felt anger in his bones. He'd never wanted to kill anybody before but they were making it difficult. How could they just leave her when she was holding a bomb? Then Eliot gave her a look and he had to remind himself of Eliot Spencer's legend. He would useless in a fight with the hitter but boy did he want to punch him.

Then he was alone with Sophie, as he wanted. They argued and argued. Then she gave him a look and he knew he lost. The magic word passed through her lips. He considered arguing with her but the look in her chocolate eyes… no, he couldn't do that. He just gave her the last bit of advice he could and went to the door. The control freak that he was; he had to be by the door. So he stepped over the threshold and turned around. He stretched out his arms and waited.

She did exactly as she was told. She lifted the vase above her head and released. Then she ran.

He almost didn't catch her when the bomb flew off. In fact, it was such a force of heat that it blew them back. Her head rebounded off the molding as they flew into the hall. Then his head hit the wall and everything went black.

His eyes opened again to pain and dark. He was lying on top of someone. His arms seemed to point to the idea that he was protecting them. They were above his head after all. Then a familiar perfume wafted into his nose and he knew. He was on top of Sophie.

He pulled back in a panic and immediately started checking for vital signs. He didn't really register anything but his hands moving to her mouth and throat. Somewhere he must have understood that he wasn't doing it right, but emotions were in the way. Panic had set in and he was violently shaking the grifter.

"Wake up!" He screamed, so loud he was probably shaking the building with his voice. "Wake up, dammit! Let me know you're okay!"

She didn't respond. Her eyes were still closed and her nose still had that crimson blood under it. He wanted to wipe it off but he was afraid. He knew what would happen if he didn't feel her breath there. So he kept shaking her and shaking her, screaming for her to return. Tears even stung his eyes, though he would deny it if anyone asked.

Something was tugging him back but he shook it off. His whole body formed a cocoon around the grifter and he made certain nobody would get through. He just kept shaking her and begging her to wake up.

"Nate, listen!" A voice said. It was thick and gravely. It sounded like nails grinding on chalkboard. It had to be the hitter, Eliot, telling him something was wrong.

He pulled Sophie closer and forced his emotions back. His right hand found purchase on her stomach and his left was supporting her back. Her stomach was hard muscle and unmoved. But a little puff of air fell from her lips.

"Ow," was the first thing Sophie Devereaux said when she came into consciousness.

Nate let loose a sob he didn't even know he could make. He gripped her tighter and clung to her tiny frame. He pictured his son, broken and dead. The tears came immediately and his grip tightened again.

"Make it convincing," she said. Then her head fell back.

He made the performance quite worthy of Katherine Clive. The neighbors thought he was a grieving lover and he made certain to play into that. He cursed at Eliot and made a damn fool of himself. He refused to let anybody near her until the EMT's came. Hardison almost cracked a smile when he and Eliot had to pull him away so he and Parker could make it look like she was going to the hospital instead of his apartment. Eliot led him away moments later.

He didn't realize the grifter actually passed out until he found her on his couch. There was a blanket around her and an IV in her arm. The blood under her nose was gone and the cut in her head was patched. She looked like she was sleeping, beautiful and serene. He gently nudged her shoulder and almost freaked out when she didn't respond.

"She's been passing in and out of consciousness all day," Parker explained.

They had called Bonano to make it look good. He questioned Nate for the rest of the afternoon. He and Eliot came up with the story while Parker and Hardison stayed to take care of the grifter. Nate wanted to refuse but he knew his show wasn't over yet. Besides, he wasn't sure how he would have reacted if he watched the thief put the IV into her arm anyway.

"Did you ask her the questions?" Eliot asked, always the professional in these situations. Nate silently wondered if the man waited until he was alone to absorb everything and emote.

"Yeah man," Hardison said, "but she keeps responding with different names and places every time. I'll get worried and then she'll respond with 'Sophie in Boston, Hardison, I'm fine. I'm alive. Calm down' Like I'm gonna calm down! Somebody tried to kill our grifter! How am I supposed to calm down?"

"Can we kill him, Nate?" Parker sounded a little too eager with that question. The look on her face didn't bode well either. "Or her? It's a bomb in a plant so it could be a her. I hope it's a her. Can we kill her, Nate?"

He opened his mouth to speak. Then he closed it again and considered her words. The fire in his veins was boiling over and he wanted to do harm. He knew that was worrying behavior. Eliot was staring at him in shock while Hardison was agreeing with the thief. Nate's blue eyes turned to Sophie and the hatred seized.

"We're going to get him, Parker," he said, "but we're doing it the right way. He… or she… they won't die for this. But they will pay. Believe me they will pay."

There was a harshness to his tone he hadn't heard since Sam was alive. He used that tone on Sophie once. He thought she was threatening his family and she talked him down. He never understood how he could trust her with his family but he did. As Parker constantly reminded them, she had superpowers where he was concerned.

"Let's go," Eliot called, "I've got a better first aid kit at home. Nate, you should stay here with her. I'll have them back in a couple of hours."

The mastermind didn't even respond. His eyes were fixed on the still woman lying on his couch. He heard the door close and looked up. He was alone. Only Sophie remained and she wasn't awake enough to talk to. So he made himself a cup of coffee and settled at the coffee table. At some point his hand shot out and covered hers. He could tell when and he didn't care how. He just sat there and sipped away at his coffee, holding her hand like it was his right to do.

She awoke in a daze and tried to run for the door. She gasped in pain, gripped her head and fell back before she could even sit up. Her brown eyes fell on him and a smile formed upon her lips.

"Hello Nate," she said.

_Good, that means she remembered at least nine years of their life._

"Name, city and date, please."

The look he received was kind of scathing. She even looked a little perturbed at the casual way he spoke. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were further back in their past.

"You weren't specific enough," she said, "Are you talking about Sophie Devereaux or Melissa Carter? Sophie Devereaux is the woman you chase all around Europe. Melissa Carter is a business woman who just flew into Moscow to arrange a deal where her Museo de Arte collection can borrow a very lovely Faberge egg. The difference is very important."

He smiled, unimpressed by the old Sophie Devereaux's appearance. "You forgot the date."

"2009." She rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Nate. Between you and Hardison, I'll never get to sleep. I'm well practiced at sorting my own head out, thank you very much. It's sweet of you to offer your help though."

"You're in Boston by the way," he winked.

She scowled at him again and then hit him with a pillow. That seemed to be the moment she was aware of his hand. Her brown eyes grew wide as saucers as they fell to their clasped hands. A flash of pink colored her cheeks. Then she looked at him with a soft gaze.

"I'm alright, Nate," she said, "It's only a minor concussion. I've had worse." She hit him with the pillow again and winked. "You've done worse."

"This is different," he replied.

She stared at him with calculating eyes. He could tell she wanted to say something, wanted to with all her heart. But her lips only grew into a sly smile and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"I owed you for the cookie sheet," she said.

And that was enough to get him out of his funk. Sophie Devereaux was alive and well. She was trading jokes with him like nobody's business. They were fine.


	16. Chapter 16

**Wild Card: AU**

Nathan Ford fiddled with the necklace on his chest. It was burning hotter than it ever had before. She was close. He could feel it in more than his stupid locket.

His soul necklace was a complicated thing for such a simple shape. It was half of a key. He figured it out when he was ten. The necklace had glowed right and started etching itself into a shape, as it usually does around puberty. He had been dreaming about impossible things in impossible places. A young girl with dark eyes and dark hair was teasing him senselessly, and he liked it.

He awoke to his necklace, a special necklace given at the time of birth to discover one's true soul mate, glowing brightly. It was well past midnight but that light was like a beacon. He couldn't help but stare at the beautiful magnificence of it. It was calling to him.

He watched as the once perfect circle started to shape and mold itself into something brand new. It started by folding in on itself, creating circles and hearts in the metal. It took the shape of a key and then melted half of it away. He almost cried as pain flared through his chest. He could feel the empty space the missing half created. It was giant hole in his heart.

Maggie filled that empty void for so long he honestly believed that their necklaces were mistaken. She had the broken half of a heart dangling around her neck but when she kissed him it was like the world was right again. She gave him everything and he strived to pay her back. But they were never meant to be. They found out the hard way.

He knew long before their Sam died.

He remembered the first time his necklace burned. It wasn't quite as sinister as it was now. It was a slow heat slowly rising from his necklace up to his neck and through his heart and into his back. Air fell out of his lungs and the world started to spin. Pain entered his head, hammering against his skull. He loosened his tie in hopes of gaining some air. Instead he lost his breath the very moment she walked into the room.

Her hair was dark with curling waves. Her eyes black in the incoming sunlight. Her lips were a dark ruby red and she entered the room with purpose and power on her shoulders. She looked completely unaffected by the heat radiating off of her necklace. Of course, the necklaces seemed to affect men more than women. There was a reason for it.

She presented herself as a museum curator for Louvre. The client was thinking about loaning one of his most prized possessions to it, a Degas. She almost had everyone fooled, Nate included. She talked with the authority and knowledge of any amazing art expert in the world. But there was the way she looked at him that had the former insurance investigator stunned. There was a twinkle in her eyes that suggested she knew what was happening.

She made certain she had the room all to herself. She smiled as she closed the door on him and immediately set to work writing things down. He figured out she was stealing when he made it to the end of the hall. He turned around and raced after her, certain she was only just wrapping things up. He had no idea she was planning to take the painting with her.

The moment he opened the door, he knew her plan. She was like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hand was paused on the painting and her dark eyes stared at him with nothing but surprise. She blinked and shot out of his way as quickly as possible. He may have had the door blocked but her quick thinking cleared that obstacle. She was out of the door and he was hot on her tail.

They raced throughout the building. She would take a shortcut and he would be right there to take it with her. She did everything to divert him but he ignored her attempts. She ran. He chased. It was such a thrilling moment in his life, he almost commented on it. Then they made it outside of the building.

She turned right and he followed. Traffic separated them just enough a few blocks down. She turned right again and he turned left. He knew almost immediately that he had made the wrong decision. The key around his neck grew cold far too quickly. Normally it took time before the soul necklace's heat would fade. His jumped to arctic temperatures and only seemed to grow colder. He even turned around just to increase heat. But it was too late, she was gone.

"I see old habits die hard."

It was not the voice he was expecting but he did have a point.

"Jim," Nate said, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jim Sterling, former IYS Insurance Investigator turned Interpol Agent, smiled at his question. He tossed over a tumbler, a tradition during their meetings. He poured the mastermind a drink and sat down in the chair beside him. They drank in silence for a while. Sterling was trying to get his wording perfect. He always did have a flare for the dramatic. And because Nate did too, he waited with open ears.

Sterling nodded towards the necklace twirling in his fingers. "I see you still haven't told her yet."

Nate dropped the painful thing immediately. He winced at its contact with his skin. The burn was still something he would never get used to. They say over time the necklace doesn't burn as hot even when the two halves haven't been united. They were dead wrong because his kept growing hotter with every encounter.

"Don't you think she deserves to know?" Sterling asked.

A surge of anger and hated flared through the mastermind at that moment. He turned towards the Interpol Agent, murder on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were blazing and fire resided in his veins. But all he could really get out was a small whimper of a reply.

"What do you want, Sterling?" He asked.

Sterling gave him a look. It was indescribable, a cross between disappointment and maybe guilt. The twinkle in his eyes was gone and concern quickly covered the new feature. Whatever it was, Maggie was doing an impeccable job. Not many people could be so suited to be Jim Sterling's soul-mate like his ex-wife.

"Why is it?" Sterling asked, "That the men are more affected by the necklace than women?"

Nate stared at him in shock for a few minutes. He took a quick sip of his malt and just stared at the other man. Then he decided an answer was in order.

"I don't know," he admitted. It pained him to do it too.

"Frankly," Sterling continued, "It doesn't make any sense. Women should be more affected. They are more comfortable with their emotions. They let them rule their thinking. Why is it that the men feel the urge of the necklace more?"

"Probably something with tradition," Nate replied, "It was customary for the man to act first in everything once upon a time."

"You honestly have no idea, do you?" Sterling was looking at him like he was an idiot. It was like he figured out the question and he was hoping the mastermind would join his thinking process. He didn't have to sound so condescending and annoying. He should have brought Eliot with him.

"Please," Nate grumbled, "Enlighten me, oh great one. Why aren't women affected by the damn necklace?"

"Because they're affected so heavily by the emotions," Sterling replied. His answer was very quick. He was literally waiting for that one damn question before he answered. Smug bastard.

"How can you possibly know that when even scientists are baffled?" Nate asked. Hey, playing into the other's man hand was the quickest way. It wasn't exactly the prettiest.

"She was shaking."

Nate stared at him, hoping for more of an explanation. When none came he sighed and took another gulp of whiskey. This was going to take longer than he thought.

"She was shaking, Nate," Sterling said. He sounded angry because of the mastermind's lack of response. Oh well. "When you were shot she was shaking just as much as you were. You thought she was in shock."

Nate stopped listening then.

He was back in that bank in Juan, Texas. Sterling didn't know about this incident, but what he was describing was the same. The bank had been taken hostage because of a bank robbery. He saw it coming but couldn't leave. Sophie was still in there and she would not be left alone.

They had turned the robbers. That was easy considering they were victims themselves. But the judge was completely unprecedented. He got into a scuffle with the son and the gun went off, firing directly into Nate's chest. He had noticed it then, but the pain was too much of a distraction.

She had called his name and all he could think about was the con. Her breath had shortened. Tears sprung to her eyes. He thought it had only been worry. But when Eliot was stitching him up as they pulled away, he noticed the slight shake to her hands. She was playing it off beautifully. Even Eliot didn't notice the grifter's odd behavior. But Nate knew her the best. He had seen the pain in her eyes. It was a pain that seemed to have mirrored his own.

Later, when the rest of the team was nowhere in sight, he cornered her. Well, she was redressing his wound as ordered by Eliot, but he was the one who requested her. Her breath was still short. Her hands were still shaking. At one point he grabbed her wrist with his injured arm, setting that lovely bullet wound on fire. She jerked back as if she felt the fire too. Tears flung out of her eyes and the shortness of breath returned in full force. She collapsed on the floor and just stared at him for a while. Then she pulled her grifter mask back on and set to work fixing his issue.

"You never really noticed before, did you?" Sterling asked. He laughed at the look of shock that must have been on the mastermind's face. Glad, he was amused.

"That poor woman," Sterling sighed, "It's a shame she's destined for somebody so unworthy."

"Really?" Nate asked, "She's a thief just like me. Except she's a thief you've always hated and you still think she doesn't deserve me."

"She would have been great on our side, Nathan," Sterling said, "You deserved her when you were the good guy. The Black King is little too sadistic."

Nate huffed. He had never deserved Sophie Devereaux. He had been married with a newborn when they met. He did nothing but squash his findings and lie to his wife. He didn't even let Maggie know the truth about their son's death. When he allowed that to happen he couldn't stop the admission of Sophie Devereaux's true identity coming out too.

He expected her to be mad, to hate him. Instead all she could do was nod and say the exact same thing as Sterling.

"You need to tell her, Nate."

"Tell her," Sterling said, "before it's too late."

Nate ignored the man as he left. He had other things to think about. He didn't have time to absorb the agent's words. His hand found home with the necklace again. It was starting to burn hotter.

"It's about time you came out of the shadows," he said.

He heard her sharp heels stop, probably to give him a scathing look. Then they began to actually make sound on the floor. She was at his side in a matter of seconds. The necklace was not pleased. It burned white hot in protest. Apparently it was hungry to unite their souls completely. That would not happen if he had anything to say about it.

"I was wondering when you were going to acknowledge my presence." The cool, crisp British tones of Sophie Devereaux never seized to amaze him. Sometimes her real voice just couldn't be beat. This was definitely one of those times.

"I was hoping you wouldn't stand there so long," he said, taking a careful sip of his coffee. He only ever drank it black with Irish cream, but it was coffee.

"So," she said, ignoring his comment for the moment, "What job does Sterling want us to do for him? And why can't the 'great detective' do it himself like usual?"

"Actually he came for a friendly chat," Nate said, "he was wrapping up on his previous work. You know, at one point in time we were actually friends."

"And I was the stunning enemy tragically misunderstood by both parties for very different reasons." She giggled as a memory flittered past her mind. Then she turned towards him fully and allowed her necklace, the damn key to show. "You still haven't told me what he wants."

"It isn't important." At least not in their professional world. The other part of their lives was going to stay buried for as long as possible. She didn't deserve such a burden. "Just shop talk."

"Has he proposed to Maggie yet?" She asked and there was a question he wasn't expecting.

It felt only right that his ex-wife and soul-mate would get along so nicely. They were the best of friends and constantly traded stories about the man they shared in common. Normal people would be worried, but Nathan Ford. No, he took it as a good omen that the two most important women in his life got along. He knew Maggie would never spill his secret, though she threatened to on several occasions.

"I have a feeling you would know before me," he replied, "He's still kinda touchy about the subject. He thinks that just because I married her meant I wouldn't mind my ex-best-friend being her mate. Just because I punched him when he told me doesn't mean I don't approve."

"Well, some soul-mates aren't meant to be together," Sophie remarked, "Look at Eliot and Amy. They knew who they were to each other for years but that doesn't mean they could ever be happy with each other in that way. He's far too much of a lone wolf for that. It wouldn't be fair to her."

Nate smiled at her comment. Only Sophie Devereaux could ever make him not feel guilty for not sharing his secret. She didn't want to know until he was ready. She knew pushing him would only ruin everything. She knew it existed, probably even had a very good guess on what it could be. But she wouldn't force him to tell her. She would only provide him with guidance and let him do the rest. On some level she must have understood that he was protecting her. Amy was crushed when she discovered her soul-mate wasn't hers to keep.

"Ever wonder who yours might be?" He nearly killed himself for asking the question. It was the worst idea in the long historic list of bad ideas. It was right up there with the Great War and World War Two. He shouldn't have asked the question.

"When he's ready to find me, he will," she said, "Does anything else really matter?"

"You don't deserve a coward!" Why was he still talking?

"What I deserve and what you think I deserve are two completely different things," she replied. Her tone was fierce and there was warning there. She knew he knew. She just didn't realize it was him. Hopefully, she didn't realize it was him.

He grabbed onto her arm and shook his head. "No, you deserve the world," he said. He made certain their eyes connected just so he could be sure she understood. "You deserve somebody who is going to risk life and limb for you. You deserve somebody who will give you everything you deserve and more. You don't deserve somebody who can't get over themselves enough to search you out! Do you understand me?"

Her brown orbs grew wide with fire and confusion. He could almost read everything in those beautiful eyes. She didn't know where this conversation was going and she definitely didn't know what he was trying to say.

And that made him angry.

"Why can't you see that you deserve better?" He asked, "Doesn't bother you in the slightest? I mean, what past wrong could you have possibly done to think you deserve somebody so low? Why can't… Why… Why, dammit, why?"

She stared at him with her all-seeing eyes, no answer even flashing before them. Her chocolate orbs were dead silent. Even the wheels in her head stopped turning. She didn't understand. She couldn't fathom where he was going. So she just blocked it out of her head and refused to acknowledge it.

"I see you're having another Irish coffee," she said, "This is your fifth this morning. What's bothering you? Is it your father? It can't be Moreau. We haven't even done anything yet. What's going through that crazy little mind of yours?"

And she just put him in check. Moreau was the very reason he couldn't tell her the truth. If the man who scared Eliot Spencer found out Sophie was his… bad things would happen. He couldn't risk it. He couldn't allow it to happen. So his tongue stayed tied and his necklace got hotter. That was all he could do. Not after Sam.

"Tell Hardison to start working on Moreau's financials," Nate said, "That's how we're going to get him. We're going to attack a little piece at a time."

"That's risky," she sighed, "He'll know we're coming."

"Yes." He sighed in relief when she let their conversation go. She wasn't going to push and he still didn't deserve her. "But only when it's already too late."

Then he removed himself from the bar. He took his mug with him and kindly ignored the scowl the grifter was sending. She was free to judge him however she wanted. Everything she thought about him was true.

Well, everything except the white knight bit. No, he was still the Black King. He could never be her White Knight.


	17. Chapter 17

Angst

Nate was nervous. He'd never been so nervous in his life. He was making a mistake. He didn't have to tell her. He could always let her know later on. He didn't have to tell her right then and there. She was driving.

"What are you thinking, Nate?" Sophie knew him to well. He should have stopped that a long time ago.

"Soph," he said, "There's something I have to tell you."

She wasn't going to like it. He knew that the moment he found out the news. This was going to be very bad.

"Sophie, I'm dying."

The car screeched to a halt immediately. They were right in the middle of a busy highway. Vehicles were honking at them and there were several angry gestures. Yeah, he definitely shouldn't have let it all blow out just like that.

"Soph, you should probably pull over to the side of the street." He watched as another car came dangerously close to crashing into them. "The last thing we need is a cop coming over to run our names through the system."

"What?" Sophie growled. She was still swallowing the whole dying thing. Yeah, he should have told her when they weren't on a dangerous road.

"Pull over to the side of the road and I promise I will explain everything," he said.

Sophie gave him a very pointed glare that explained all of the ways he was going to die by her hands. Then she put the car in drive and slammed the car into position on the side of the road. She slammed it into park and huffed at him. He kind of got the feeling he was going to die in that car if he didn't explain everything immediately.

"You're dying?" She asked; her voice cool and collected.

She was calculating.

He swallowed and tried to remember how the doctor explained it. He knew this was going to happen.

"Cancer," he said, "I have about six months now because I quit drinking."

"You quit drinking?" She growled. Ah back to the angry tone. "What do you mean you quit drinking? We've gone through three bottles of scotch this week alone. If anything you've only slowed your drinking and even that's not that true."

"Actually I poured each bottle out and drank apple juice to make it look like I was still drinking." Not his best plan but it worked and he was still trying to figure out how to tell her.

"Apple juice?" Her voice was basically a screech. "You've been conning me with apple juice?"

Conning. So she wasn't exactly open to reason right now. That was… awful.

"Conning is such a strong word…"

"How long have you known?"

Not what is it? Not how are you doing with this? No, she knew he'd been hiding this for a while and she wanted to know how long.

"A month," he said, "I just founded out I had six months at my last doctor's appointment."

She nodded at that and turned towards the front of the car. She was staring out of the windshield, eyes unseeing. He could tell she was doing everything she could to fight the tears.

"Where do we go from here?" She asked.

Well, it was best to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"I'm leaving you."

He almost grabbed her when her head snapped towards him so quickly. He did freak out when her eyes turned black. She was really mad now.

"No, you're not."

He blinked.

"Yes, I am," he said.

"No, you're not!"

Okay he was confused.

"It's my life," he said, "You're not going to watch me die, Soph. I won't allow it."

"I'm not going to let you die alone!"

"I'm not dying alone!"

Oops.

She looked hurt all of a sudden. Her features fell and the tears came to her eyes. Her chocolate eyes were now red and puffy. He would have touched her cheek if he wasn't afraid she'd swat him for it.

"You're going back to Maggie."

His heart clenched at the certainty in her voice. She sounded so sure that he was going back to his ex-wife. She had no idea just how wrong she was. At least he could allay those fears.

"No," he smiled, "I'm not going back to Maggie. I've talked to the others-"

"They knew?" She gasped. This time the tears did fall. "I'm your fiancé and they knew before me?"

"Eliot agreed with me," he finished, "You don't deserve to watch me die."

"You mean you don't want to watch me die!" She hissed, hitting the mark right on the bullzeye, "You think leaving me will make that any easier?"

"I don't want you to remember me that way!" It was his turn to be angry now. "I'm trying to protect you, dammit!"

"No you're protecting yourself and you talked our teammates into it!"

The tears were falling furiously now. She was glaring at him while the tears slid down his face. His hand impulsively jumped up to wipe those dreadful tears away. It took great effort to force his hand away.

"I need you to know that I'm doing this to protect you," he said, "I don't want you to see me like that. I don't want you to see me weak. I know you think you can handle it but I've lived it. I watched my son, my little Sam grow weaker and weaker every day. I can't remember anything else but the way his skin kept getting paler and paler with every breath. I can't even remember the last time I saw him smile."

"But you still remember his smile," she said, "You saw it every time we shared a laugh with Maggie. You saw it every time Parker said something that reminded you of him. You didn't just remember the bad."

"But I remember it better," he sighed. She wasn't getting this. "I don't want you to only see me dying. I'm leaving. You can't change my mind."

He pulled out the paper that's been in his pocket since he found out he was dying. It was the same disease that took Sam. He was okay with that. He did something very similar when he found out his son had cancer. He edited his will. The very will that was currently in his hands.

"I need your help," he said, "I have all of this money-"

"Maggie needs the money," she said, "She deserves it. Parker would like to keep Old Nate. She won't say it but that painting means the world to her and Hardison made it. He would want her to have it. I think you should give him something that shows you're proud of him. He just wants to know you approve of everything he's done."

"And Eliot?" He asked.

"Eliot would probably appreciate it if you gave him your car," she replied, "He'll accept whatever you give him."

"What do you want?"

She gave him a very scathing look. It was like he was a complete idiot and she was the smartest person in the world. She was extremely scary.

"I want to be your wife!"

It was a small admission. Something that other men would find quite meaningless when they looked at the fact that they were dying and couldn't fulfill their duties as husband properly. Better men would leave it there. But he knew her and everything she was giving him with that one small sentence.

"I don't want you to suffer like I did-"

"Then make me your wife and let me be there when you die!"

He stared at her and she stared back. Their conversation was continuing in ways he could have never rehearsed. He and Eliot had discussed this situation quite animatedly. The hitter had agreed that hiding the grifter from this emotional battle was best. She would want to be there until the very end and not even give herself a moment. She would lose herself in taking care of a dying man. Neither one of them could allow that to happen. But maybe leaving her wasn't going to work after all.

"Okay," he said, "but on one condition."

Sophie perked up and her tears started to subside. A small smile appeared on her beautiful face, the face he was going to miss most about this world. She inclined her head softly and gave him her silent go on. She was listening.

"You have to promise me that you're not going to give yourself away." He held up his hand when it looked as though she was going to argue. He shook his head and she kindly closed her wonderful lips. "If I let you take care of me, let you watch me die. You have to remember to take care of yourself too. You can't hide away like I did. You have to let the others take care of you. You can't push them away like I did. They're going to need you, Sophie."

"I…" she hesitated only for a few seconds. Fresh tears were falling from her eyes but she refused to fall before him. She was always his brave girl. "I promise."

He smiled and move in to give her a kiss, the very kiss he wanted to give her when he first told her. She stopped him though. She placed her hand on his chest and pushed against him slowly.

"But you have to promise to let me take care of you," she said, "because I can't let you die alone and have no idea if you've died. You have to stay with me. You have to let me be your wife."

He smiled at her negotiation skills. She had a point. So he responded the only way that was truly appropriate. He grabbed her cheeks and pulled her in for the biggest kiss he could pull off. Her insistent tongue definitely agreed with his thinking. She was going to be okay.

That was all he needed to know.


	18. Chapter 18

Backstory

His backstory was an open book. He was an honest man. His mother was highly involved with the Catholic Church. His father was the local fixer for all of the Boston mobs. He chose to follow his mother's path and become a priest. Then, when he realized he was too much of a Jesuit to be successful at the priesthood, he decided to catch the very bad guys his father was. He became an Insurance Investigator.

He lost his son. Blackpoole wouldn't pay the money to let him live. He lied to his wife about it. They got a divorce. He became a criminal and the rest was history.

It wasn't his backstory he was interested in.

From the very moment they met, Sophie Devereaux was the biggest mystery of all. She was smart too. If she hadn't been he would have never been so interested. She outsmarted him that first time when she was swiping that Degas. It was purely by fluke that he even caught her doing it. He believed her tale, a tale he would later be amazed he believe. But her face was so honest, her beauty was so downplayed. There was no way he would have expected it at the time.

But she surprised him and she just kept surprising him. She would constantly find new ways to outsmart him, only after he figured out her game and stopped her. They made each other better. Maggie pointed it out the first time she read Sophie's case file. She forced him to notice that he was better at reading people, better at catching the criminals. It was a wonder she was never jealous.

He loved puzzles and Sophie seemed to be the greatest puzzle he would ever meet. Right when he thought he had her figured out, she went and threw him in another direction. Her name was the biggest mystery of all.

He hated that he didn't know her name. He knew her only as Sophie Devereaux. That was the persona they both seemed to like best. He liked it because that was what he knew her by. She liked it because he liked it. But it wasn't the name she was born with. Annie Kroy was close. There was a simple look on her face every time she did the accent. It was the closest to her true voice he would ever get. That's why he enjoyed Annie so much. It didn't really hurt that she saved his life using that accent on many occasions.

Charlotte Prentice only fell in on his mental chess board. He only got fractions of the tale. She was a Duchess married to a Duke. Some sort of scandal occurred and she ran away. The Duke, William Prentice, drank himself to death shortly afterwards. Yet he knew that was the alias Sophie hated most. He assumed it was because she broke cardinal grifter rule number one. She fell in love.

She had a very unusual attachment to Sarah Jane Baker. He secretly believed it was because she was married to Tom Baker, his favorite alias. Anytime she had to play the character she took it methodically. She would be a lovely, doting wife or have something to fight about. It wasn't quite fair the way she would turn the tables on him. He also felt like he really was her husband. Maybe that was the problem.

He didn't know her name. He didn't know if her parents were truly alive or dead. She didn't even know if she had any siblings. There was a brief mentioning of a brother but he got the impression that he didn't last very long. Her past love affairs were only found in her eyes. Every time he told her how much he cared, there was doubt shimmering in those brown eyes.

Then he got a picture.

The Métier was hanging in her bedroom and he couldn't help but appreciate it. He loved to stare at it and see the paint strokes used to create the impeccable image of the grifter. He could tell that Métier loved her. The paint strokes revealed everything about his feelings for her. Plus, he called it his mystery. Obviously she meant a lot.

"Quit staring at it," Sophie said.

Nate smiled to himself. The grifter only just entered the room. Her back was turned to him. There was no possible way she could have seen him. Her bathroom didn't allow her that advantage sight. But she knew him. She knew him well.

"I'm just admiring the paint strokes," he replied.

She snorted derisively. To anyone else that would seem as a poor excuse. She knew better. She knew he was telling the truth. She found it amusing that he was now a fan of Métier. Of course, she knew it was only because of her.

"It's not even his best work."

"Yes it is."

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. She wanted him to elaborate. Well, who was he to refuse her?

"He captured you," he shrugged, "the lucky bastard actually captured every inch of you. My favorite part is the eyes. He captured the fire that's always there. Everything else can't compare to this."

"You're just saying that because you're sleeping with me."

She meant it as a joke but he couldn't help but note the sadness in her tone. He knew better than to comment on it. He just smiled at her and shook his head. Then he pulled her close and gave her a big kiss on the lips.

Her backstory may have been a mystery, but it led her to him. He couldn't help but be grateful.


	19. Chapter 19

The Bottle Job

He took a drink. There were a million possible ways he could have avoided Doyle's taunts. He didn't have to take the dam drink.

Eliot was silently seething throughout the rest of the con. He should have known this would happen. Right when Sophie's problems started to show, so did Nate's. Though for very different reasons, obviously. Sophie dropped hints that Nate was spiraling out of control. It was different than the first time though. He was having identity issues, the only thing similar to Sophie. But the mastermind wasn't acknowledging it, like Sophie had.

The very first drink was a very bad symptom. Ever since Sophie left, he'd gotten more restless. Eliot was calling the grifter every day just to complain about the mastermind now. He was constantly seeking her advice, trying to gage how bad of a crash landing they needed to expect. She was the one who knew him best. She could tell everything by something as simple as the way he said one damn word.

He really needed her here now.

"Let me know the very moment he starts drinking," she told him, "It's a symptom."

He laughed at her for saying that. He knew Nate and his drinking was a symptom. Nate wasn't exactly good when handling his emotional frustrations. It was just Sophie's job to pull him back and force him to face those emotions in the privacy of his apartment. But Sophie wasn't there and the job of protection fell completely on Eliot's shoulders.

"I know it's a symptom, Soph," he said, "I just don't know what it's so important for you to know."

"Because his drinking leads to riskier plays," she growled, "The more desperate he becomes to get the good guy the more plays he misses. If you don't measure his drinking, you will miss the moment when he decides to put you all on the line. He'll get you into trouble and then he'll get himself killed to make certain you get out."

Okay, she had a point.

"He's obsessive and compulsive and constantly afraid of becoming his father," she growled, "You have to tell me when he starts drinking. It's not about how much. It's never been about how much. It's always been about the way he drinks. If he just sloshes it back and drinks it at a leisurely pace, he's thinking. If he just tugs it down he's about to do something stupid. If he goes shot for shot, run!"

Eliot now understood what she meant. Nate was chatting with Doyle and taking his time drinking. He loved each and every taste he took, but he didn't dwell on it. His blue eyes were shining with intelligence.

He was thinking.

"She told me you were a drunk," Tara said.

Eliot was kind of glad he was in the warehouse at the moment. He would have killed her if he was there. That was the absolute last thing he needed. Nate did not need to be reminded that Sophie didn't come back when he asked. He was a stupid selfish bastard who was blaming himself for her leaving. He was ignoring the fact that she needed to leave to get her head straight to benefit them.

She was coming back!

But no, Tara had to go and remind the stupid mastermind that their grifter was gone at the moment. Sophie was going to be very unhappy about this.

"He's drinking again."

He probably should have expected her to know. Tara was her friend. She probably was bitching about Nate every chance she got. It was a wonder Sophie managed to focus on herself at all, if she could.

"He's doing that stupid slow drinking thing you were talking about," Eliot growled, "How the hell am I supposed to get him to stop."

"You can't," she said, "The goal is to keep that up as much as possible. Don't remind him about Sam or Maggie. Sterling would just set him off into a mood."

"Tara mentioned you told her he was a drunk." He shouldn't have said that. He knew he shouldn't have said that.

"She doesn't know Nate. I told her not to do that again. He does know I'm not abandoning you, right? I will return."

"He doesn't know when and I'm pretty sure that's how he and Maggie split."

"He's an idiot."

His thoughts exactly.

"When are you coming home?"

"I'm no use to you if I don't figure out my own head," she said, "Otherwise I would come immediately. I can't take the chance of having a moment of clarity in the middle of the job. One of you will get shot and Nate will probably die. Hang in a little longer. I'm trying my best."

"I'll ask the others to stop calling you," Eliot said, "We need you and it's not helping to call you all the time."

"Actually it is helping," she laughed, "It's reminding me why I'm doing this. I've almost come back three times already. Parker actually talked me out of it last time."

"Parker talked you out of it?" Eliot could feel the smile that brought to his lips. Damn her. She was focusing on him instead of herself.

"She's progressing quite nicely. I was so proud I had to stay. You'll trust me if I'm able to be honest with you."

"Nate doesn't need you to be honest." He should have stopped while he was ahead.

"He does," she sounded sad, "He just doesn't want to admit it."

Eliot Spencer was pretty certain he just missed something important in that conversation. She hung up the phone and he couldn't figure out what was going on. Sophie probably figured out that she could have a relationship with Nathan Ford.

She deserved better.

But she needed him too.


	20. Chapter 20

The Broken Wing Job

_Listen to the podcast for this episode and you'll understand._

"Light it!"

It was like a scene from that Dark Knight movie. Only there was no person burning alive. It was a large pile of counterfeit money. The mark was conning two countries at once. His home base was in Japan. He was selling poorly built weapons to the U.S. armies while simultaneously paying Chinese workers with counterfeit money. Their work was hindered with Parker's absence but they were still able to pull off the con.

Nate had volunteered himself and the grifter to take care of the truckload of counterfeit bills together. Sophie wanted to kill him for it until she saw the brilliance of his plan. He took her somewhere remote, a warehouse in Japan that looked like it had once been a massage studio. He slid back one of the bamboo doors and revealed and giant pile of money.

She got excited when she saw it. She rushed towards it and dived right on it. She felt like Parker rubbed off of her the way she was swimming in it. Maybe she had been a lot more tired than she originally thought. She didn't really care.

Real money couldn't be swum in so easily.

"How did you find it?" She asked, sitting up with an easy smile on her face.

The look on Nate's face was interesting. It was a cross between amusement, pride and love. It made her heart squeeze with excitement.

"I know a guy," he shrugged, "What do you want to do with it?"

He should have known long before he asked the question what she wanted to do with it.

%%%%

So now they were burning any evidence that the money had ever existed. Along with some other, less explainable things. They doused it in gasoline and cleaned themselves off. The warehouse had a lovely hotel-like room. Nate had obviously been very busy while he was looking for the money.

Once they were clean. Nate surprised her with a lovely dinner for two. Then the real fun began.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

She nodded her head enthusiastically and told him exactly what to do. He lit the match and threw it. They had one lovely bonfire going on while they made out over their lovely dinner.

"Now, are you going to tell me about those big plans of yours?" She asked. It sounded far more breathy than originally intended. She probably should have been a bit more upset that he could do that so easily.

"No," he shook his head and gave her a very good reason to hate him. Then he smiled that extremely rare boyish grin of his and her heart melted just a little bit more. He was an evil little conman. "If I tell you, you'll ruin the surprise."

Her ears perked up at that.

"Surprise?" She asked.

"I knew I would have your attention with that one," he winked.

"Is this a good surprise?" She asked. With Nathan Ford, one could never be too careful. "Or should I be expecting to pack my bags and move to a much larger city?"

He raised his eyebrow at her little suggestion. He was obviously choosing his words carefully. So maybe he was a little more tempted to spill the beans than she expected. That only served to put the odds in her favor.

"There may be a move in our future," he said, "but that is completely dependent on your acceptance of the surprise."

"Ooh," she cooed, "Does this mean the special surprise is just for me?"

She liked the sounds of that. It meant he was actually going to try to be a better lover. He wasn't just going to expect her to know everything he felt and the intention behind each action. He was actually going to try to prove it. That was awfully sweet of him.

"I admit nothing," he smiled, "But I can promise you that it will be a good one."

Then he lightly kissed her hand and pulled her clothes. Their mouths devoured each other to the point where their tongues had to have a conversation. It all escalated quickly from there.

They weren't going to forget Japan anytime soon.


	21. Chapter 21

The D.B. Cooper Job

"I want to build something."

For some reason, Sophie Devereaux had a feeling he didn't just mean a legacy. Maybe she was growing more comfortable in their relationship. He kept looking to her throughout every moment of this case. She thought it was because she was a huge fan but maybe not. He was sharing his opinions with her. He was actively including her in discussions, acting as though he needed her support in order to make a decision.

_That's something a husband does._

She hated herself for even thinking it. She knew her status in Nathan Ford's world. She was only meant to be the girlfriend, the grifter he liked to sleep with upon occasion. She wasn't meant to be his wife. That was Maggie's job.

Besides, she wasn't the marrying type. That was why her relationship with William crashed and burned. He was married to a lie, completely unaware of it. She foolishly thought she could have a lavish life and then she fell in love. She almost told him who she was too.

"Odysseus?" Nate stared at her like she was crazy, "You think I'm Odysseus?"

"He wasn't exactly a straight on good man." She rolled her eyes. He was preening. "He ended up with many wives on his journey back to Corinth. Sure, Penelope was the one he was venturing home to, but he did bad things too. The sacking of Troy for example."

"Troy was in the wrong and they knew it," Nate replied, "Paris perverted and disgraced his host by stealing his wife. That was something Zeus was in charge of punishing. He was the god of the guest and host relationship after all."

"Well, you're not exactly siren material," she winked, "Or are you forgetting that my job was to tempt you into giving me whatever I wanted for the first ten years of our relationship."

"You have a point," he laughed.

And there it was. That odd look he'd been giving her lately. It was almost as though he was nervous about something. She actually thought he was considering dumping her and trying to get back together with Maggie. But then they found their way in bed and he started holding her closer.

He wasn't rushing towards the door when it was over anymore. In fact, he had most of his clothes stored in her apartment. She didn't even know where his apartment was. She would often mention going home and he'd volunteer to take her there immediately. Then he would do something charming and they would end up in bed… wrestling.

Only they didn't just wrestle anymore. Sometimes they would just stay and read their books in silence. When she was sick, he would baby her until she was absolutely sick of him. If he was sick, he would sleep on the couch just so he wouldn't give it to her. He had bizarre double standards when it came to illness.

Often she would wake up to him pulling her closer to his chest. It sucked on warm days. She would just wiggle herself free and suddenly she would be trapped again. His arms would wrap around her waist and tug her into him all over again. If she hit him, he would act like a wounded puppy until she cuddled back into him. He was oddly clingy when not in the public eye.

But he would never consider marrying her. She was a grifter. It was too dangerous. They were thieves. Thieves didn't get happy endings. They got bombs. Unless they were Archie, then they got the white picket fence and retirement packaged. But Nate would never go for that. He needed the hunt. He needed hobbies to keep his mind occupied. He couldn't just sit at home and do a whole bunch of puzzles until he died.

_Maybe he would consider taking up golf while I do theatre._

Okay, when did she start thinking about her future with Nathan Ford? It wouldn't happen. She knew that long before this thing even happened. He was too hung up on Maggie, too Catholic. His first marriage failed miserably. Why would he ever consider doing it again? She wasn't exactly a good example of loyalty. She betrayed the team!

But she really liked the idea of being Mrs. Ford. She liked it a lot, too much. If she didn't get off that train of thought soon she'd be walking down the aisle with Eliot as her escort. Hardison would naturally have to officiate. Parker would get to do whatever she found interesting. Tara would not be allowed to attend. She was not a good influence around Parker and she hated weddings. She would be drunk during the whole thing. Maggie wasn't allowed either but that was because she was Nate's ex.

Yep, she was thinking about it. She needed to change the topic fast. She could already hear the wedding bells ringing. The song for their first dance as husband and wife was on its way.

"why don't we take this upstairs?" She asked.

He scooped her into his arms and rushed her out the door. They were in his car in seconds and he was speeding through town. A man with a plan, just the way she liked him. She could definitely get used to this.

_Bloody hell, I did it again!_


	22. Chapter 22

First Love

Sophie Devereaux would always be jealous of Maggie Collins (Ford.) It was just a fact of life even if she liked the woman and enjoyed her company. Maggie had one thing Sophie could never dream of possessing (several really.) She had Nate's heart first… and always would.

The grifter could never compete with a first love. She wouldn't either. Nate deserved Maggie when he was the White Knight, the great Nathan Ford. Maggie was a wonderful wife. She gave him a beautiful son, someone Nate would never get over even centuries after his death. She taught him how to hone his skills into a relationship and even gave him everything he was missing.

The only thing Sophie ever did was show some leg and make his mouth water. She challenged him (just like Maggie did.) She teased him mercilessly. But she could never get him to cheat. It was how he was able to earn her respect. It was what made her fall in love with him to begin with. Maggie was because of that.

It was Maggie Ford who went to sleep with him every night, shared a bed with him. She had his last name, his heart completely and totally wrapped around her finger. It was Maggie Ford who gave him a son, shared the pain and loss of that son. It was Maggie Ford who called him out on every mistake and made him an honest man.

It was Maggie Collins who left him in order to save herself. He was a sinking ship (but Sophie could never quite forgive her for it.)

So why was she and not Maggie stranded on a boat labeled First Love?

Now, that was the question. There were several women in Nate's past who held importance. (Only two.) There was absolutely no reason for her to be the one locked away as leverage against him. Maggie was the one he loved. (The one he would always love.)

Yet she was the one who needed his help.

It wasn't fair.

Maggie was the one he always thought of when his heart was in danger. (It was never her.) The first thing out of his mouth anytime his past was mentioned was Maggie (and Sam.) That woman could get him so worked up into big protecting husband mode it was amazing he could breathe. He answered her phone call when she called about Paul. He ignored all other calls from his past… but not hers. (Never hers.)

So why was Sophie Devereaux stranded on a boat called First Love? Maggie was Nathan Ford's first love. She was always going to be the one he thought of with fond memories. She was always going to be the breakup he would regret. (He was the reason it ended to begin with.) She was the one who truly made him a better man. (He always argued that one of all things but she always won. She was right and eventually he was going to realize it.) All Sophie did was make him a criminal (a better criminal. Maggie pushed him in that direction. So technically it was the both of them that did that.)

"This bloody well better be a joke," she huffed. Then she let loose a giant series of curse words in several languages. What else did she expect from kicking the bloody boat? Of course she would stub her toe when she was trying to calm her temper and think about happier things. (Her day only seemed to be getting better and better.)

"That's what I said."

She jumped and released a few more curse words. Parker at least had the decency to sound upset.

"Are they hurting her?" She asked, "Nate, I think they're hurting her. You said Eliot was allowed to kill them if they hurt her. Did they hurt you Sophie? You only curse like that when you're hurt."

"No, Parker, I'm fine." She lied. (Her toe really hurt and she wasn't going to be able to walk on it for at least a few minutes. Not to mention the fact that she had just got a wonderful pedicure.) "I just wasn't expecting to still have my com."

That part wasn't a lie. She honestly wasn't expecting to hear Nathan Ford's voice in her ear. She thought her captors would have at least had the decency to remove easily located things. Of course, judging by the way the others were chattering, the com might have just kicked on. That didn't sound like good news.

"Nate, I've got her." Hardison's voice at least sounded a little bit casual. (Her grifting tutelage was definitely starting to pay off.) "And you're not going to like where she is."

"If it's anywhere difficult to get to they're all dead!" That was Eliot. He sounded as though he was already prepared to put that plan into action. (It was going to take her days to talk him out of it.)

"Um…"

Yep, Hardison was still in need of learning how to grift properly. She would have delivered the bad news in such a better way. (She even would have smiled through it.)

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Eliot gasped, "She's in the middle of the damn ocean. Nate, they put her on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Do you have any idea what that means?"

"Are they going to try to kill her?" That was Parker. She sounded excited. Why did she sound excited? "Because the last guy who tried to do that was Chaos. Sophie totally proved to him that she was invincible."

"Babygirl, we've already had this discussion. She is not a superhero in hiding. If anything she would be a super-villain and she was very offended that you didn't think of her that way."

That was Hardison. Why wasn't Nate talking? Nate always talked. He liked the sound of his own voice because hearing his plan flattered his ego. It was never good when he was silent. When he was silent, he was planning. When he was planning, he was planning something bad. When he planned something bad it meant he was emotionally invested. It was always bad when he was emotionally invested.

He got careless and self-destructive.

Why was he being careless and self-destructive?

"What are you thinking, Nate?" She had to ask it. His silence was killing her.

"You're not going to die, Soph."

Why didn't that sound as comforting as she thought?


	23. Chapter 23

Declaration of Love

"You're not going to die, Soph."

His promise echoed in his mind. He gave Sam his word when they first found out he had cancer. He told his little boy that they would do anything to save him, to fight his disease. Maggie and Sam had both believed him. They trusted him and knew he would do everything to keep their family together. He punched his boss in the nose just to get his son approved for a damn loan.

He just promised Sophie the same thing.

He wasn't going to make it. He accepted that right when he agreed to meet Blackpoole on that boat. He should have expected such a simple play. The man felt it was screwed because he lost his business and his name. He took everything from Nate and nearly destroyed Maggie in the process, but Blackpoole was the one shamed.

No, this was going to end his way not Ian's.

"There's no negotiating, Nate," Eliot growled after the phone call was made.

"Are you crazy?" Hardison said, "This is suicide, man!"

Parker summed up all of their thoughts in one go.

"Sophie's going to be really mad."

He didn't care what happened next. He went onto Ian's boat and acted like it was just a casual meeting. He had to make it look casual. He had to make it seem as though he was completely unaffected by this business transaction. He couldn't show the truth.

Sophie's life depended on it.

"Ian," he said.

The man had gone completely bald while he was in prison. His once healthy face was now grey and sweaty. His business suit was two sizes smaller than what it used to be, and it still managed to fall off of his tiny frame. His face looked as though somebody stretched some skin across a hollow skull just to see what it would look like. It was the crazy fire in his eyes that was the problem.

There was madness in those eyes.

"Nathan," Blackpoole laughed, "It's so nice to see you. I'm glad you were able to come. I hope your hacker had no trouble finding it."

"No," Nate laughed too. It was the only thing preventing him from killing the man instantly. "No, it was no trouble at all. Beautiful choice by the way. You can get a great view of the wales out here. Too bad you're so far from the coast."

"Well what better way to kill the woman you love than where help will never find her?"

That hit below the belt.

Nate's stomach clenched. His heart stopped. His lungs forgot how to breathe. Sweat started pouring out of places he didn't even know could come up with the stuff. But he managed to keep his face blank. He could hide the truth. He was taught by the best after all.

"You've got my grifter in there," Nate replied, "My wife is still safely at home. What…?"

"Oh, you're not that stupid and you know I'm not." Blackpoole looked like a toddler on the verge of having a tantrum. He even threw himself just like one. "Why would I kill Maggie? She's not the one who has your heart… At least, not anymore."

"I don't…"

"Don't lie, Nathan!" Blackpoole stomped his feet and jumped up and down angrily. Even his goons looked disturbed by the action. "I know you love her! I saw the pictures. I know everything."

Nate took a breath and counted to ten. Then he decided counting to eighty was safer and did so. He had to keep his temper in check. One wrong move and Sophie was gone. That was unacceptable.

"Sophie is the best grifter I know," he said. He was proud to note his voice was nothing but calm and collected. "If there was anybody better, I would have hired them. Our relationship is strictly professional."

He was expecting something. A tantrum, a lot of yelling, evidence even… he wasn't expecting this. Blackpoole was laughing. The bastard was laughing, snorting and having a right old fit of laughter. He even brought tears to his own eyes. Nate was so glad he was amused.

"Prove it," he finally said. When the laughing subsided and was on the verge of becoming hiccups, he was still smiling. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love her."

Nate waited for the other shoe to drop. It couldn't possibly be that easy. Nothing important in his life ever was.

"I'm serious," Blackpoole said, "If you can tell me that you don't love her and prove it she's free. I'll release her with an apology and even go back to prison willingly. Nobody would doubt whatever story you come up with. I'll play along one hundred percent. If she's not the key to your eternal suffering, I don't want her."

Then he cracked another sinister smile and started laughing. "She's too beautiful of a prize to lose."

Nate almost cracked at that one. He even stepped forward threateningly. He caught himself before any true damage could be done. But one of the goons stepped back and flashed him a worrying glance. Eliot thankfully voiced his thoughts loud and clear.

"Sophie Devereaux is no prize, dammit!"

"Thank you, Eliot," the grifter said, "but I don't think he cares. He's not exactly stable or anything. He thinks Nate's in love with me for some reason."

Well that was a relief. At least somebody believed his story. Too bad it was the only grifter in the world who could read him like a book and still come back for more. She was the best at reading people and she had no clue. How was he supposed to convince Blackpoole and lie to her?

"Nate, I figured out why she's in there," Hardison said, "They're going to cut off her air."

"What does that red thing mean?" Parker asked. She sounded both scared and curious. That wasn't a good sign.

"That is definitely not her air supply starting to diminish, nuh-uh!" Hardison sounded a little bit too panicked all of a sudden. It was a wonder he managed to keep that news quiet for so long. Nate figured it out around the same time Sophie had.

"I knew it was a bad sign that it was suddenly hot and stuffy in here."

Nate almost sighed at her breathy voice. His blood boiled and he almost punched Blackpoole all over again. But he didn't know if Sophie was actually in a room or her own boat. The man still had resources they couldn't stop. Plus, Sophie had been running out of air for two hours. A room of that size meant she only had…

"Thirty-seven minutes if we keep her talking," Eliot calculated. Great, he wasn't going to sugar coat it for the tiny thief. How was he planning on keeping Parker contained now?

"You cut off her air supply," Nate sighed, "That was foolish. She has connections even you couldn't dream of."

"You still haven't proven you don't love her," Blackpoole teased, "Come on, Nate. All you have to do is say it and she'll be free. Go ahead. Can't you say it?"

The words jumped to his tongue immediately. He was all set to deliver them but his mind was evil. It stayed his tongue full-well knowing what would happen if the words got out. There was no coming back from it. She would believe him.

But he had to convince Blackpoole. She would know if he did that.

"Nate, go ahead," Sophie encouraged, "Just say it. He sounds genuine in his promise."

Nate actually opened his mouth this time. He was all set to say it when his mind caught up with him again. Sophie just made a mistake. Blackpoole didn't sound genuine. He sounded crazy. He wasn't going to let her go even if he said it. He was just testing to see if he really did and how far he would go. Sophie should know that. Why didn't she?

"You've had the air off for longer than two hours, haven't you?" He realized.

This time he couldn't control the flash of horror that flickered on his face. His heart stopped and he suddenly knew breathing wasn't enough. His brain could no longer focus. She lied.

"You can't say it, can you?" Blackpoole chuckled, "You can't say it because you do. You love her."

"I don't love her!" Nate shouted at the top of his lungs. It actually sounded convincing but he was too flummoxed to care. Sophie was dying. He could actually hear her shallow breaths now.

Blackpoole smiled again. "You answered too quickly," he said.

Nate was on him in seconds flat. His hand dug into the man's lapels and he pinned him against the wall. He even drew blood with his forceful push.

"I don't love her!" He said, "Now how long has she been without air? How much longer does she have?"

Blackpoole smiled and laughed. He coughed a lot more blood, too much blood. The bastard was dying. That was why he was so dangerous. He had nothing to lose. That was why now.

"Not long enough for you to save her," he replied. Then his eyes rolled up and he was gone.

Nate didn't know what he did next. He just remembered a lot of running and panic. He knew he broke something. There was a fierce pain in his shoulder that erupted the very minute he found the door. He saw Sophie lying and the floor and everything just happened. He was walking through the door and only registered the pain moments later. He felt cool air pour into the room, pushing him towards the unconscious grifter.

He picked her up and ran.

Suddenly they were van and he was ordering everybody to go. Eliot's fists were bloodied. Parker was driving erratically. Hardison was pointedly staring at his computer, his back facing the grifter and his eyes staring unblinkingly.

Nate pressed his lips onto the grifter's and started to blow. He kept pumping her chest and blowing air into her lungs. He was going to get her back. He was going to make sure she survived. He would give up his life to make sure of it.

It took him a while to realize Eliot was coaching him. He was so busy trying to get the grifter to breathe he didn't even notice that words were spoken. He only noticed when his hands were pushed away from her chest. He wanted to protest but he was still breathing for her.

"Her pulse is back," penetrated his foggy mind, "keep breathing. The oxygen will help her brain wake up."

He took a deep breath and started breathing with all of his might. He fought the impulse to push on her chest. Her heart was working. If he pushed it now, it would stop. He was fine with breathing for her.

Her black eyes flew open in a panic. Her arms pushed him out of the way and she sat up abruptly. She was coughing and gasping for air. Her breathing was coming in short, sharp rasps. She was defeating all of his hard work. She wasn't giving herself the proper time to breathe.

"Easy." His arms wrapped themselves around her and pulled her into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly, forcing her body to automatically time itself to his. She relaxed immediately in his embrace.

"Water," she croaked.

Eliot complied immediately. He helped her sip away at the clear liquid. He didn't look fazed when she passed out afterwards. He even thought it was funny that the mastermind panicked. She had only just regained oxygen. Passing out was bad, right?

"She'll be fine," he said, "Her brain's just recharging."

Parker and Hardison relaxed immediately. They started joking around and acting as if everything was normal. They even made certain to clean up so they wouldn't be caught. Didn't they realize Sophie wasn't alright?

"Man, you've got it bad." Eliot shook his head and laughed.

Nate wanted to snap at him for the comment. He wanted to lie and say several bad things. Instead he pulled the grifter closer to him and cradled her. He would protect her from the crazy thieves they called family. She would always be safe in his arms.

She wakes up again before they've stopped in Portland. Her black eyes shine bright and stare at him. He knows those eyes. Those are calculating eyes. Those eyes are devouring his every secret and storing it into her photographic memory like nothing else could. He can even see the very moment she decides to allay his fears.

"I don't love you too." She says. Her eyes are already closing again before her chest goes into a steady rise and fall.

Nate can't help but smile for the rest of the day. Even under extenuating circumstances, they still managed to figure out the truth. They "didn't" love each other.

He was never going to stop smile anytime soon.


	24. Chapter 24

This one might be a little too mature for certain readers. The prompt was foreplay which usually comes before a certain activity that involves a bed, two people and exercises the whole body.

Just saying, you've been warned. Don't read if you can't handle it.

Nothing explicit or inappropriate.

Foreplay

They weren't a normal couple. That was obvious from the very beginning. Their foreplay started long before their relationship did. They chased each other around Europe and teased each other mercilessly. Everybody seemed highly surprised by the fact that they never slept together.

He was married. He had a family. He was an honest man. Why didn't anybody understand that?

She didn't make it easy. Every time he saw her, her dresses got shorter and her necklines got longer. At one point her was completely surprised she even bothered to call that strap of cloth in Dublin a dress. There was more skin than cloth.

When they became team members the foreplay became a little more risky. She blatantly wore things that would give a hint of his favorite skin. She would sit at angles that forced his eyes to look and hope for more. Then she would pull away just when he was about to see what he wanted most. He knew she was doing it on purpose. He could tell simply by the way her lips would tilt up after every close encounter.

He tried to compete. He bought silk suits and ties just because he knew they drove her crazy. He would pick up wild scents that threw her sensual attacks in overdrive. He would tease her with brief touches that weren't nearly as hard as she wanted. He would even emphasize certain words like "bedding" and "nude." It worked too but he was dealing with a master. There was nothing he could do to beat the seductress at her own game.

After they kissed the foreplay all but seized. She would lick her lips when nobody else was looking. She would move her leg in a certain way right in the middle of his briefings. She would twist her neck and play with her hair when describing her former heists in great detail. She knew how to use her mind and body to perfectly intrigue him and make him want to know more.

She even used the fact that he didn't know her real name.

San Lorenzo was the tipping point. They were having drinks and doing pretty calm flirting for them. Occasionally he would mention a city and she would describe the outfit. Somehow the harmless description of clothing turned into a far more harmful description of what wasn't on. She gave more details about what clothing she was missing the more into their past they got. Then she mentioned the fact that she had forgotten to put on her silk and lacy underwear that very morning and he kissed her.

Afterwards, she got more creative. He wasn't interested in a relationship because he was in love with her. She calmly pointed out that he was screwed no matter what. It started with a few crosswords in the paper. The first mentioned pieces of art she'd stolen and only took up a few lines. The next one mentioned cities. The third one described her shoe closet. He gave up when that last one ended up mentioning a long dead English guy whose last name was Devereaux. She somehow managed to get two down to read a six letter French name that meant wisdom and spelled out her name perfectly.

Then they ended up sleeping together and the foreplay got more creative. She would mention a city, describe a few minor details… and he would remember the outfit and the conversation in San Lorenzo about what clothing was missing. He would find ways of making her beg for a kiss during dinner and she would somehow make dessert appear in very kissable places.

She was currently going through a phase. She wanted to try new things. He would tell her no. She would somehow find the things she wanted to try and show up naked.

He kind of liked this new ploy.

For example, she wanted him to teach her how to play chess. She wasn't bad at it. She even knew how to beat him when she actually wanted to play. She just wanted him to teach her some basic strategies so she could beat people who weren't him. He told her no. She showed up three hours later with a brand new glass chess set and no clothes on. Every time he stole a piece, he got to kiss anywhere that tickled his fancy. Every time she won, a piece of clothing found its way back onto her body.

She suddenly got very good at chess in February.

His favorite ploy was when she wanted him to play golf with her. Neither one of them were very good. He was constantly trying to figure out how to sink the ball when he wasn't in character. She was constantly distracting him when she kept getting double bogies on hole five and six. There was no reason for them to take up golf as a hobby.

Then she bought out a resort and tricked him into thinking she was in trouble. He couldn't decide if he wanted to kill her or kiss her when he arrived. It was the middle of the night. She was standing leisurely by hole one, naked. Every time she got the hole in, she would jump. Every time he tried to swing, she would bend over.

He'd never been so bad at golf in his life.

She was currently sitting on the table without any clothes. This time though. He wasn't going to budge. She could be wearing the food and he still wouldn't eat it. He didn't care what that damn doctor said. He was not going to eat that cardboard people tried to call food.

"The doctor said it was good for you," she growled. She was leaning seductively in front of him and having the very effect she wanted. He was just too stubborn to admit defeat. Plus the fish tasted nasty.

"I told you that I wasn't going to eat this," he said, "Showing up naked at the dinner table is not going to change my mind."

"Every time you eat a vegetable I will give you a kiss," she said. Then she stuck out her lip and battered her eyes. Evil. "One bite of Salmon and I'll make everything on that plate taste like a steak."

"It was a blood clot," he said, "It wasn't even a heart attack. The doctors noticed it before anything serious happened. Why do I have to eat rabbit food?"

"The doctor said no red meat and that your diet had to change," she growled back, "I promise that you will only have to eat this for dinner."

"I'd rather be eating something else," he grumbled.

Then a wicked grin found its way on her lips. His mind automatically replayed his words and he mentally cursed himself. He knew teaching her how to play chess was going to blow up in his face. That wasn't what he meant and she knew it. The perve.

"I hate you," he replied. He still managed to shovel all of that damn broccoli down in record time.

%%%%

He didn't recognize the signs of their newest game early enough. She somehow got into the practice of removing his clothing anytime he said something she didn't like. Or maybe the rule of the game was something she did like. He was kind of confused at the moment.

They were grocery shopping because their house had no food. They ate it all and were a bit lazy on picking it up. It probably had something to do with their anniversary coming up and stuff. Anyway he should have noticed the signs a lot sooner. She started innocently removing his tie in aisle three when he mentioned chocolate and strawberries and plans for making a cake with those items.

He was pretty sure he lost his top button during their discussion on oysters or scallops.

He definitely recalled losing his cufflinks in aisle six when he liked the sound of Chardonnay with dinner.

It wasn't until he was in line that he realized what he forgot to keep track of. He knew she had his belt. She was waving it in front of his face through the glass window in the front of the store. She said something about waiting in the car for him because she was thinking about going to the nearby shoe store. He agreed because he was already picturing what she would look like with those red knee-high boots on.

He reached for his wallet and almost cursed her. He couldn't find it. Plus his pocket wasn't where it was originally. He was patting himself every which way trying to locate the magical item that would pay for their pitiful load of aphrodisiac foods. Clearly they had plans because the whipped cream was real cream. Then he found the pocket and realized that was not a pocket at all.

There he was, standing in line quite patiently. He was dressed in the same shirt he had on when he entered. Had the same loafers as well. He was wearing a crisp, clean dress shirt, penny loafers that cost anything but a penny… and his boxers. Everybody was staring at him in amazement and all he could think was:

_How did she steal my pants?_

And now he had a hard on.


	25. Chapter 25

The Gold Job

Nate was busy writing down a few notes for himself about the next con. He could feel her black eyes on him, but he ignored them. Sophie would come to him when she was ready. He could understand why she was boring such an unhappy gaze into the back of his head.

Mama bear was trying to protect her baby while simultaneously letting him go.

He didn't even react when she finally decided to plop herself into the empty chair beside him.

"He's making it far too complicated," Sophie muttered.

Nate couldn't help but agree. The hacker made his point when he refused to do the briefing for them. He really was being underappreciated. He just had a lot of work to do before he could truly be ready to mastermind properly.

"He's not going to take our word for it anymore," Nate sighed, "He has to see this to its end before he can understand."

"I know," she said, "I know that. Can't we just… I don't know… nudge him in the right direction?"

"We can't keep holding his hand every time he wants to learn something new for a con," Nate replied.

He was still writing down the rest of the necessities for the con. He had Hardison covered. That was all he could do. He had to let the hacker figure out he wasn't ready on his own. Besides, Hardison would be more willing to hear what he needed to work on.

"He was brilliant at the briefing," Sophie said, "He was better than you. He actually took our advice. He wanted feedback. He asked our opinions on everything. He's a far better team player than you."

Nate decided to ignore the dig. Mostly because she was right.

"He is a better leader. That I will admit. He's just young and still naïve in his crime understandings. We'll fix that. He just needs more time to learn."

"He actually looked shocked when I explained to him I did a land deal in nothing more than a low cut dress and a foreign accent," she replied.

"You also had a glass in your hand," Nate laughed. "By the way, that was one of my favorite cons."

She beamed immediately. "I knew you enjoyed my work. You were rather reluctant to catch me."

"Well with that dress how could I possibly arrest you?" He asked. He completely put on his sexy voice just for her. He was kind of hoping for a kiss. She didn't disappoint. She moved her lips closer and closer to his as she recounted that wonderful night in Mhangura. Then she pulled off what she always does.

"When are you going to tell him about the heist?" She asked.

He gave her a little wink and forced his mind to remember words. She made it very difficult for him by licking those delectable lips. But he cleared his throat and recalled something only she would properly understand.

"Baby birds need to learn how to fly," he said.

She rewarded him with a gentle kiss and a small smile of her own. Then they were interrupted by Hardison once again talking about how amazing his plan was. Boy did they have a lot of work to do where he was concerned.


	26. Chapter 26

Grifter

When you were a grifter, you had more than just one title to your name. Sophie Devereaux knew this better than most. She made many mistakes when learning just what being a grifter meant. She could list all of the rules and requirements without ever acknowledging how she made these discoveries.

The first rule was to never fall in love. It always ended badly. She learned that lesson when she met William. She didn't know he was the mark she would fall for. At the time she was only thinking about all of the money and the fact that she needed a well-established, honest alias. It was necessary to develop one. She just happened to catch the eye of the Duke. It made sense to play the con out.

Eventually she realized her mistake. She stopped thinking about the securities he was bringing to her. She got upset whenever another woman talked to him. She worried whenever he didn't call her while he was on the road. She actually tried to please his family members, even though she knew they could see through her intentions. But the biggest revelation was their wedding day.

She was playing the blushing bride a little too well. Honestly, she was a nervous wreck. She panicked because she didn't have anything borrowed or blue. She ran around William's home, he insisted that they would get married at his mansion, looking for something that would suit her needs. It was only an hour before the wedding and she was weeping on the steps of the back porch. Auntie found her there and sighed in exasperation.

"You're puckering your looks by making a fuss like that," she said.

Sophie didn't know she was there. If she had she probably wouldn't have squeaked so loudly. She covered her lips immediately and started to wipe away the tears. Unfortunately that only made the tears fall faster. Then she was admitting things only her heart seemed to know the truth of.

"Oh Auntie," she cried, "I can't find anything borrowed or blue. I have to find it. I'm not the one for William if I don't find it. I love him, Auntie, I swear I do. But I can't marry him until I have something borrowed and something blue. Today has to be perfect. If it isn't perfect then I don't deserve him and I don't deserve him. I know I don't but I want to, Auntie. I want to so much. I've never loved anybody as much as I love him."

She almost ran away when she realized the truth of her words. She was young and stupid. It was such a bad combo. She should have done that whole family a favor and left right then and there. But Auntie surprised her.

"Oh dear how dare you even suggest you're not good enough for our William," she huffed, "I've never met anyone as kind and considerate as you. Dear lord, you went through the trouble of moving Heaven and Hell just to impress all of us. I will admit I had my doubts but the way you handled his mother made me know you were the one for him. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, could ever put that woman in her proper place the way you did, my dear. Now stop all of this blubbering."

Sophie obeyed immediately. She even cracked a smile at the old woman's compliment. She couldn't help it really. Auntie never said anything she didn't mean.

"As for something borrowed and blue," she said, winking as she spoke. Then she pulled out a blue blanket that looked as though it had once belonged to a baby. William's name was etched into the right hand corner of it. "I think this should suffice. Further proof that you are the woman he needs."

Sophie had leaped for the joy and immediately placed the blanket into her bouquet. She married William and didn't regret anything until the names were called. She was Charlotte Prentice. Her real name wasn't the one on the marriage certificate. At least not to William's knowledge. He thought it was an alias when she came clean several years later. Then he drank himself dead.

But she hadn't learned from her mistake. No, if anything she only seemed to repeat it and break more rules while she was at it. She was a horrible grifter. The worst in history. She not only fell in love. She fell in love with an Insurance Cop. And he was married.

Then he wasn't married anymore. Sam died and Nate changed. She broke more rules just to try and bring some pieces of him back. She agreed to work with him just to see him again. She gave him several of her aliases just because they had reputations their jobs needed. She broke character when he was shot. Then she broke thief code because he wasn't who he used to be.

The worst crime she could ever commit happened because she was drunk. She incapacitated herself and admitted her true name. Nobody was supposed to know her true name. William didn't know it was her real name. Nate did. She lucked out when he forgot, but she wanted him to actually know.

Grifters are supposed to be ghosts. They're not supposed to have people who knew her past. They weren't even supposed to have pasts. Yet she told four known criminals her deepest secret and trusted them to keep it.

"You're the worst grifter in the world," Nate said.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her against him. He kissed her head lightly and pulled her even tighter. His lips wandered up and down at a leisurely pace. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. He was in a good mood.

"You're worse," she replied.

She turned around and gave him a proper kiss. Then she giggled as he nodded his head and kept kissing her all over. He carried her to the bed and they never stopped holding on. She may have been the worst grifter in the world but he was the one who broke the most important rule of all.

He fell in love with a grifter.


	27. Chapter 27

Hurt/Comfort

Sophie was running as fast as her legs could carry her. Her bright red heels had been abandoned long ago. Her feet were sore from hitting the pavement for several blocks. She would have probably given up ages ago if the bloody mark wasn't still following her. The bastard had a gun too.

She ducked a street sign and cursed when a bullet went into it. That one was far too close. She should have known this would happen. She finally decided to take her own little side job and this is what happened. If Tara hadn't asked, she wouldn't have even bothered.

Another bullet whizzed past and she was pretty sure Tara owed her big time for this one.

A black car pulled out in front of her and stopped. She crashed into it and nearly cursed at the driver. Then the passenger side door popped open and revealed an unruly curtain of brown hair. She should have known Nate Ford would be the insane person behind this.

"Need a ride," he asked casually. She could tell he was furious simply by his tone.

"I'll explain later," she replied.

Then she ducking into the car and ordering him to step on the gas. Her window shattered moments later and fire enveloped her arm. She knew she was going to get shot.

"Ow!"

They were safely away from harm and Nate was taking care of her. Well, if you could count manhandling as taking care of.

"Ouch!" She yelled again. This time she hit him on his shoulder for that one. "If you insist on removing the bullet you should at least do it properly."

"It's not my fault it went through the bone, Soph." He growled. He started inspecting it more carefully and honestly tried to be gentler when he put the tweezers back in. She still had to smack him when the fire returned. "We should have called Eliot to do this."

"I refuse to be lectured about taking side jobs from a man who spends his free time doing them," she huffed, "I was only do this as a favor to a friend. I informed you all that I was taking time off to do it. I even went through the trouble of giving you my number in case I didn't check in on time. Honestly, he should be taking notes from me."

"He doesn't usually get shot on these side jobs." This time he did poke a nerve on purpose. She slapped him for that one.

"He got shot twice while Parker nearly died of the Spanish Flu on a side job that began during the wrap up of another job," she replied.

He nodded his head, conceding the point. Then he made a pleased sound and smiled. He pulled back the tweezers and revealed the bullet he'd been searching for.

"Looks like you won't be dying of lead poising today, Ms. Devereaux," he said.

She laughed despite the pain. He always knew how to make a simple bullet wound seem like nothing but a paper cut. This kind of reminded her of the old days. He would appear to rescue her at the most unexpected moment… and she would get shot for it.

"I always make up for it though," he said. He was reading her thoughts again. She really shouldn't have found that so attractive.

"What did I do to deserve you?" She asked.

He gave her one of his rare boyish grins. He took her hand in his and gave her palm a light kiss. Then he rubbed his nose against hers. His blue eyes bore into hers with a new light in them. He was practically glowing.

"I don't know," he said, "but I sear I'm going to make certain that one day I'm worthy of you."

"My personal White Knight," she laughed, "and he thinks he's not good enough. You're a bastard, yes. But you definitely have your moments."

He kissed her hands again and laughed. "I try."

They lapsed into silence. She was wondering how he could have possibly known she where she was. The others were nowhere in sight and she was positive they would have been if involved. That meant he used his detective skills to find her. What gave her away this time?

"Tara," he replied. It really wasn't fair that he knew her so well. And it was sexy as hell. "She called and told me where you were. She did so the day you arrived. She told me that she had everything taken care of and that she was going to return you as good as new. I think she suspects that I care about you."

"You should have heard the phone calls I got when she was keeping an eye on you for me." Sophie couldn't help but feel the old worry return to her shoulders at the memories flooding her mind. "She actually told me you were head over heels long before it actually happened. She had a theory that if I was there you wouldn't have gone off the rails at all."

"You would have pushed me onto them just to get me to wise up," he laughed, "I'm pretty sure I would have enjoyed that more. I wasn't quite fond of her because she wasn't you, you know. I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"She told me about the test you know." He was almost finished bandaging her arm. It felt good as new. He must have used Eliot's healing salve. It was a miracle worker for work related pains.

"Test?" He asked innocently.

Like he didn't know. Tara Cole pulled it on every man she was working for. It was the oldest trick in her deck really. She would slowly come onto the person in charge so she could get what she wanted. She was absolutely shocked when it didn't work on Nate.

"She said she gave you everything you wanted." Sophie explained, "That she showed her intelligence and even showed what she had to offer that I didn't. She didn't make herself an easy target and she intentionally made sure you understood her invitation. But you never budged."

"She mentioned your name," he nodded, "I think she figured it out when I snapped at her for it. She asked if a British accent would clinch the deal. By then she knew about Maggie and figured out we had something in the works. I kindly told her no."

"She said you told her I wasn't somebody who could so easily be mimicked." Sophie smiled at the way he so casually explained his loyalty. Even when they weren't an item he couldn't cheat on her. She found it oddly romantic.

"There are many smart and beautiful women in the world," he said, "but there will only ever be one Sophie Devereaux."

He deserved a kiss for that one and she was more than happy to oblige. He wasn't complaining either.

"I'm still telling her off for this," he managed to say in between their kissing fest.

"I'm sure she's already leaving the country as we speak," she replied.


	28. Chapter 28

The Inside Job

"Are we ever going to talk about that kiss?"

Nathan Ford had never been a mastermind when it came to his personal life. It took him forever just to get Maggie to agree to a cup of coffee. He actually had to trick her into it and use some of his skills just to hook her into staying when she figured it out. Luckily, his brain was enough to keep her interested. She gave him two more dates, two successful dates before he screwed up.

Obviously he didn't screw up too badly. She did eventually agree to marry him after all. And they had a kid together.

Nate had always wondered how that happened. Not how Sam happened, he knew how that happened. It was successfully getting Maggie to marry him and date him before that. He really had no idea how he did it. He just suddenly figured out how to impress her and kept impressing her until he believed they were meant to be.

Sophie was another story entirely.

He won her over with his brain. That much he knew simply because their past was all about a battle of wits. He was constantly testing her skills and she always tested his. When one of them one a challenge, the other would have a brand new win of their own. He knew it was his brain Sophie liked most. She'd never had a challenge before. It was what kept her coming back.

It was what made her stay that truly confounded him.

She had her chance. She betrayed him but it was half his fault. She expected him to be the same man he was when they were chasing each other. It wasn't entirely her fault that he wasn't the image she had in her head. He did strive to be a mysterious man. She did the same to him. He thought she was some angel, fallen from heaven and completely misunderstood. A selfish thief wasn't on the list.

On paper it was on the list. In his head she was a spy badly burned. She was wronged by a family that never really wanted her. She was a victim who became the villain.

In reality she was nothing like that. She was never the victim. She was always the wolf in sheep's clothing. She knew a person's intentions simply by the way they used their wallet. She could get a man to do whatever she wanted with a blink of her eyelashes and a smile. She was dangerous.

And it disturbed him that it only served to make her more attractive.

He was a wreck when she left. He couldn't understand how that was possible. He'd become far too dependent on her knowing who she was. She was a thief and he was an honest man. That was the way the world worked. But he somehow stopped seeing her as a thief, a common criminal.

She suddenly became a beautiful woman whose company he enjoyed more than anything else in the world. She wasn't the elusive Sophie Devereaux, a sexy villainous who enjoyed to steal paintings and break the hearts of old men who just wanted somebody to care. She became Sophie, a woman who cooed over every ache Parker experienced, yelled at Hardison for his lack of sleep and bullied Eliot into taking care of his injuries every night.

She stopped being a thief and with her, he stopped being an honest man. They somehow found the world of in between. They were equals. He'd been in prison. She led the crew while he was locked up. And the scariest subject in the world was that kiss on the Maltese Falcon.

But he had to figure out where they were. He was so tired of running.

"Kiss?" She smirked, "I don't remember a kiss. I remember a slap."

"You're still working off the slap."

Oh, so that was how it would be. The message rang loud and clear. He was still in trouble for the stunt he pulled. Unlike her, he never apologized for designing a plan that eventually led to them being blackmailed into hunting down the big bad of the world of crime. That was understandable. She was going to drag it out. He could wait.

He was very patient after all.


	29. Chapter 29

The Last Dam Job

"As you can see, we should totally keep the Bat Cave."

Nate stared at the hacker in complete and utter disbelief. Hardison had just finished his one hundred one point plan. He came up with reasons to keep the Bat Cave. That wasn't the worst of though, sadly. NO, he somehow managed to pull Eliot and Parker into it.

Parker was an understandable choice. She was always siding with Hardison on almost everything. Their relationship was slowly turning into more than just friends and her heart definitely led her as far as the hacker was concerned. It was no surprise that she was supporting the idea of keeping the hacker entitled Bat Cave. Plus there were high ceilings and tons of dangerous places to hide and play. She was in the very moment they found the place.

Eliot was a completely different ballgame. The hitter very rarely actually sided with the hacker on principle. He loved to mess with the younger man. There was no better big brother for him than Eliot Spencer. The man kept the hacker in check. He loved to bust his chops. And Hardison still managed to get him to side with keeping the Bat Cave.

They were children, three adult children. When did he exactly did he sign up for three full-grown children? Right, around the same time he decided he wasn't his father after all. Yeah, he was definitely regretting conning Dubenich and Latimer into killing themselves. He could have done it himself and completely avoided this headache.

He was such a softie.

"We are not keeping the cave!"

Why did he have to keep repeating himself? It wasn't that difficult to understand. He told them no. He meant no. That should have been the end of it.

All three pairs of eyes immediately fell on Sophie. Great, they were going to Mommy to keep the cave. That just wasn't fair. Especially considering she had those legs in those jeans. Dammit, why did he have to have such smart kids?

Sophie smiled at them sweetly. But her eyes were completely blank. Then she uncrossed and recrossed her legs the way they all hated. She was enjoying the power she held over them and she was letting them know it. OH she was gorgeously evil.

"You heard Nate," she said, "We're not keeping the cave."

Their faces fell immediately. He should have been angry that Sophie's word was final. It was just unfair that they looked to her for every command. On the job he was in charge. For everything else she was the one they consulted. If she said yes then they could get away with murder, even if he said no. Instead he was relieved. At least she was on his side.

"It's just not fair," Parker whined, "We had plans for this cave."

"We were going to install a light signal," Eliot grumbled, "I was going to have a Wolf with a knife sticking out of its tongue."

"Mine was going to be a clown," Parker cheered.

"I was going to have my hacker signal blinking and stuff," Hardison mumbled, "I figured out how to use the sun to power the light signal and make it stronger."

Nate watched the three grumbling thieves pack up their play things. They didn't look happy but they would soon understand it. Too many people knew about the tunnels. They needed to pick a play place that was easy to hide in plain sight. He smiled when he felt Sophie come to his side.

"We're going to have three very upset thieves during out flight out of town," she said, "Maybe we should take a separate flight."

"And have Hardison change our tickets from first class to coach?" Nate laughed, "I'd rather deal with the growling then that. He'll seat us directly between an old couple and a mother with three children."

"About these plans of yours." She looked at him with sad, curious eyes. "What exactly do they entail as far as the team is concerned?"

The team. Of course she would do everything she could to avoid asking about her involvement in his plans. That's okay. He was willing to play along.

"Oh they've got a big part," he said, "Your part is bigger but they're definitely involved."

There was a moment of silence where she allowed herself to absorb the news. She nodded her head and decided to ask the other question that was bothering her.

"So where do we go from here?"

He smiled then. Taking her small hand into his own, he kissed it delicately. Then he made certain her chocolate eyes were staring directly into his.

"I'm going on a boat trip."

That wasn't the answer she was expecting. In fact, she looked a little upset by the prospect of him leaving. In her mind she had only just gotten him back. She wasn't exactly looking forward to losing him so quickly.

"Will you wait for me?" He asked.

A small smile cracked upon her lips. And he knew everything would be alright.


	30. Chapter 30

The Long Good-bye Job

"Will you marry me, Lara?"

How was she supposed to say no? He proposed with her name. Her real bloody name! There was no way she could ever refuse that. He wasn't just asking Sophie Devereaux, Katherine Clive, Annie Kroy, Charlotte Prentice or any of the millions of people she'd ever been.

He was asking her, the real her. He knew using her name would seal the deal. He had to. Why else would he use it? Of course she was going to say yes.

"Yes." She cried. The of course you bloody fool was more than implied. Why he looked so fearful when he proposed was beyond her. It was obvious she had been in love with him for years. Everybody on the crew knew it but they still trusted her to keep her emotions in check. She was failing quite spectacularly this time around.

"So you're really leaving?"

She almost burst into tears at Parker's little question. Her heart ached at this farewell. She was never going to grift again. Well, she wasn't going to put her life in constant danger every day now. She knew Nate and she knew herself. They were never going to be completely out of the game. The others knew to call whenever they needed them. They would always come when called. Nate knew they weren't out of the game forever.

He was using Archie as the model. They trained their three pupils, but they weren't abandoning them. They were always going to keep one ear on the ground to hear of danger. Their thieves would never be alone. This was a retirement, not an escape. They had too many enemies for that.

"How does that make you feel?"

"I think I'm okay… Yeah, I'm okay with it."

Progress. She knew what it felt like to be proud of another human being. The feeling in her chest when Parker said that. She was pretty certain that was the exact same feeling mothers had when they watched their children graduate secondary school or university. It was fulfilling to see such calm on the thief's face. It would be awful not to see that every day.

"I was thinking that we should move away as soon as possible."

Nate was staring at her expectantly. His blue eyes were calculating and she knew he expected her to make this decision. He was a fair bastard at least. He planned their retirement and engagement. Everything else was going to be up to her.

"I want to stay in Portland until after we're married," she decided, "That way we're not completely abandoning them. They're going to need this transition to be easy. If we just drop them, they'll hate us for it."

"I knew I was too lucky to have you," Nate said, shaking his head, "You made a bad choice."

"As long as you keep reminding yourself that there are other choices out there," she winked with a smile to ease the harshness of her words.

He laughed and laced their fingers together. She tried not to look so surprised but failed miserably. They were in a public café, outside where everyone could see. He was very Catholic when it came to their relationship. Public displays of affection were strictly off limits. He seemed to have forgotten that rule as he kept kissing her hand every ten seconds. She would tell him to stop if she didn't enjoy so much.

"Lara," he said and her heart melted further, "I love that name."

"I've noticed," she laughed.

He hadn't stopped using it since the proposal. He never used it within earshot of people. He was still more than aware of the dangers of the wrong person knowing her real name. But he whispered it in her ear whenever he could. He made it sound like a compliment and a dirty joke that only the two of them would ever understand.

"So this is what happiness feels like?" She asked, stunning herself with that one, "I like it."

Nate stared at her with those calculating eyes. He was wondering what happened in her past. He wanted to rub those scars away and make certain none of them came back to haunt her. She wanted to kiss him for it. But he just gripped her hand a little bit tighter and acted like nothing was wrong. He wasn't going to push. So she asked for the check.

She knew to reward for good behavior.


	31. Chapter 31

The Mile High Job

Paris or Tuscany.

The debate had become a sensation between the three youngest members of the team. Parker had a theory that Sophie killed somebody and Nate was blamed. It had to be in Paris because, to her at least, the Prefecture of Police were completely incompetent and would totally come up with the theory that an Insurance Investigator did it. Obviously, her vote was Paris. Her theory on the other hand…

Hardison's theory was a little less colorful. He thought Sophie and Nate got a little freaky in a closet somewhere in the Louvre. He was working a case. She was said case. They bantered back and forth and then they finally couldn't contain themselves anymore. So they ran to their own little corner and got a little hinky. Then he remembered he had a wife and left her hanging. Or, far more believably, she left him right when he really needed her most. She definitely laughed the entire time too.

Eliot actually put thought into his theory. He just one day showed up and explained everything to them. It was plausible and sounded very Nate and Sophie. Sophie showed up. She stole something directly under Nate's nose by flirting with him. When she left, he realized what happened and the hunt began. He never caught her or what she was after. She got a little too involved with the flirting and actually forgot to steal whatever it was she was after. They were both highly professional and never admit defeat. Honestly, there was nowhere else this flirty thing they had could have happened than in Paris.

The location wasn't the source of the debate.

It was the thing that happened that they debated.

"No, Sophie totally killed a guy and blamed it on Nate!" Parker cheered.

The boys stared at her like she had three heads. Obviously they didn't think her theory was correct. When she huffed in annoyance, the hitter knew he had to explain why her theory couldn't be it.

"Are you kidding me?" Okay, he wasn't exactly being polite, sue him. "Parker, Sophie can't even stand to kill a mosquito on her arm because it's gross. Do you honestly think she could frame Nate Ford for murder?"

Parker stared at him like he was an idiot. Obviously he wasn't getting through. He looked to the hacker for help. Nope, the boy was totally head over heels for the thief and no help whatsoever. He couldn't even give such a reasonable explanation for his theory. The got freaky in a closet. Ha! Nate was an honest man, he couldn't sleep with a woman who wasn't his wife.

"No, she totally killed a guy," Parker whined.

"Who did Sophie kill?"

The three turned towards the door to the conference room, each sporting their version of a guilty look. Except Parker. The girl didn't know enough about human emotion to actually feel guilty. She was just failing to mimic the other two.

Nate stared at the others quite expectantly. Sophie was right behind him. Her hands were on her hips and she was quietly doing that creepy reading thing she did. Eliot fidgeted a little bit and tried to pretend nothing happened under her steady gaze. Hardison broke immediately.

"Okay, we were discussing our ideas of what happened in Paris and/or Tuscany."

The eldest pair stared at them in complete and utter incomprehension. Eliot sighed. He knew defeat when he saw it.

"The coms were still on during that damn flight with Marissa Devins," he said, "You know, the one that went down while we were flying. We've been trying to figure out what the hell you two were talking about and what could have possibly happened to legitimize such an argument."

Smiles cracked upon both of their faces. Sophie and Nate gave each other a look and the smiles grew wider. Uh-oh, their misery was only just about to begin. Dammit, he knew he should have killed Hardison when he had the chance.

"It was nothing," Sophie said. She was already slithering away to her hidey hole of an office. "There just… may have been a kiss, under the stars for all the world to see."

Nate shrugged and smiled with her. Then he nodded his head and watched the grifter walk away. The others turned towards the mastermind expectantly. He was an honest man. He would tell them the truth, right?

"I wouldn't exactly call it a kiss," he winked.

Nope! That was definitely not the truth.

"I told you they got freaky!" Hardison cheered. Then his face went pale and his eyes blew wide with horror. "Oh man, they did it in public! That's just nasty!"


	32. Chapter 32

The Snow Job

He wasn't the same man she knew two years ago. She should have known he wouldn't be. He lost his son, his job and his son. He lost everything in his life that made him who he was. When they met he was a father and a loyal husband. She was an unexpected part of his past that reminded him of everything he's lost.

He wasn't who he used to be.

He was a drunk. He was moody. He hated life. It was a wonder he was still alive. It was probably because he was a Catholic. The need to feel guilty about his son's death was probably the only reason he was still alive. He was living out of spite of the God he apparently abandoned when his son died. This was his wife's fault. She left him. She abandoned him when he needed her most.

Sophie was going to kill that woman as soon as the opportunity revealed itself.

When Eliot charged him, she knew she had to intervene. He was doing everything he could to anger them. He knew the hitter was pissed off because of the money. Hell, she was pissed off because of the money. She shouldn't have ripped up that bloody check. Everybody would have been a lot happier.

But she knew Nate. She knew the way he thought, the way he planned everything down to the last detail. At least she thought she knew Nate. Back then he was full of life and loved everything and everyone. The only thing that hasn't changed was the fact that he was still a bastard.

If anything he was an even bigger bastard, now.

"Give me a reason to stay." She said that for several reasons. She knew he would take every meaning she had too.

She wanted to know what her place was in his life now. He was the one who sought her out. He asked her to join her little team, asked for her help. He didn't have to come for her. There were plenty of great grifters out there. He had to have chased most of them or at the very least heard about them. He chose to come after her.

He kept pushing them all away like he expected them to abandon him at any moment. He refused to admit that they were becoming a team. He wouldn't even acknowledge that they had a point. He didn't even consult them about taking away their money. He told her to rip up the check.

And she obeyed.

Maybe that was what was irking her. She actually listened to him. She knew he was speaking out of hatred for the man and his sons. They took homes away from innocent people, sure. How was that his problem? Their client found them. He went through the trouble of asking for help. He deserved to get back his home, which was rightfully his.

It wasn't their fault if the others weren't smart enough to search them out.

Why did the bastard have to be such a White Knight? That was his problem. He was far too busy being a righteous man, an honest man. He didn't see the advantages of being a criminal mastermind. He didn't see what could be done when he used the law to his own benefit. That was why his son died. He did everything the legal way. All he had to do was pawn off one of the Monet's he retrieved from her and everything would have been fine.

But no he had to choose to be an honest man.

The sad thing was. He fared much better on her side. She always knew he would. He always denied it but she knew better. His heart was never truly in the justice. It was the hunt. He enjoyed taking down the bad guys and making them suffer. He was just like her deep down in his soul.

Maybe that was the problem.


	33. Chapter 33

Starting a Family

Parker couldn't believe it. There was absolutely no possible way this was happening to her. She just found where she belonged. She finally had people who loved her for who she was. They didn't want to change. They only wanted to make her a better thief. They made her the best thief in the world.

So why were the two people who helped her most doing this to her?

"No!" She gasped, "How could you do this to me? I trusted you!"

She didn't know what their reactions were. She ran out of the room before she could see them. She was pretty sure they were upset. But it wasn't fair. They betrayed her. She trusted them both even though they had proven just how untrustworthy they could be. She allowed them into her heart, to guide her and teach her in ways Archie never could. Why would they do this to her?

She heard her footsteps before her perfume tickled her nose. She sniffed it in and tried not to gag on it. That scent used to be comforting. Now it was just another sign of the new pain she would have to go through.

"Go away," she groaned.

"We're not going anywhere, Parker." That was Nate. She didn't even hear his footsteps. He must have known she would key in on Sophie's heels. Damn his stupid mastermind brain.

"I hate you," she hissed petulantly. She knew she sounded like a child but she didn't care. They didn't deserve to call themselves her family anymore.

"No, you don't Parker." Sophie was looking her directly in the eyes and giving her the brightest smile she could muster. How dare she try to grift her?

"I know your news," Parker growled, "and I hate you for it."

"You know?" Sophie gasped. Her hands shot to her mouth and her eyes darted towards Nate with worry. She was actually pretending that everything was fine. That they were fine.

"When did you find out?" Nate asked. He sounded surprised but not upset. Why wasn't he upset? This was bad news. He should have been upset.

"I overheard you two talking in the hall," Parker said. She didn't understand what was going on. Why weren't they acting like this was bad? They were tearing her whole world apart all over again. It wasn't fair and they seemed happy.

Didn't they love each other?

"Of course we do," Sophie said. She looked confused. Parker was too. She didn't realize she said that last bit out loud. Oops.

"Why would you think we didn't love each other?" Nate asked. Then a big smile formed on his face and he started to laugh. Why was he laughing?

"What?" Parker asked.

"She thinks we're getting a divorce, Soph," Nate explained.

Parker frowned. What was so funny about a divorce? That's what they were going to do, right? They were going to break up and start hating each other. Eventually she, Hardison and Eliot would have to choose between the two of them. Eliot would choose Sophie. Hardison would choose Nate and she would be stuck losing another family to divorce. Why were they laughing?

"Parker we're not getting a divorce," Sophie said, "Why would you even think that?"

"I heard you talking," Parker said, "You were both saying that you had to tell the others. That we had to know the truth. You were worried about how we would react. You said Eliot was going to kill Nate. What else am I supposed to think?"

"Parker, we're not getting a divorce," Sophie repeated softly.

"We're never getting a divorce," Nate winked, "You misunderstood what we were talking about."

"Oh!" That made a lot more sense. But what was the big secret they were trying to hide. Oh no! "Which one of you is dying?"

"Neither one of us is dying, Parker." Nate sounded exasperated that time. That was good. It meant he was back to being normal Nate. Parker liked normal Nate. Normal Nate would take great care of Sophie. Parker didn't like it when mean Nate was around Sophie. She was afraid mean Nate would hit her and she didn't want to hate Nate. She liked him too much. Plus Sophie would probably kill him and Sophie didn't need to go to prison for killing Nate. Eliot wouldn't really let her but still.

"I'm pregnant, Parker," Sophie smiled.

Parker was confused. She'd been watching them for weeks now. Ever since she heard them whispering about not telling them their news. She followed Sophie to the doctor's office but came up with nothing. Then she followed Nate but all he did was go to meetings where he would talk about his drinking and his personal theory that he was starting to become addicted to Sophie. He did say something about the baby being his reason for coming but she just thought that was code for his drinking problem. He wasn't exactly very clear when he was speaking.

She caught Nate sleeping on the couch once. He and Sophie had a really big fight about something to do with talking to the grandparents and Maggie. She didn't understand what Maggie had to do with it. Then she heard Sophie suggest he go sleep with Maggie and she understood.

Nate was having an affair with Maggie and Sophie found out. The grandparents was actually a code for the hotel Maggie and Nate were meeting at to have this secret affair. She figured Sophie figured it out and Nate admitted to it. They had their fight and that was it. They were back to being normal. But they kept talking about telling the others so she just assumed that meant they were getting a divorce. Sophie wasn't a fan of being cheated on. Nate enjoyed telling stories about an old boyfriend getting his just desserts because of it. Eliot liked those stories too. Hardison just thought they were nasty.

Then Sterling showed up at their house. He greeted Sophie by kissing her on both cheeks. Parker had brought Hardison with her that time around. He saw that and his eyes grew really wide. He started gagging and complaining about his eyes being in pain and that he would never be able to get that sight out of them. He said the same thing when the two hugged three hours later. They were both beaming brightly.

Maybe it was Sophie having the affair.

"Is the baby Nate's?" She asked.

Nate frowned at that. Sophie frowned too. The mastermind turned towards his wife in hopes of understanding. She just shrugged and shook her head. Parker figured she needed to clarify. Sometimes they were just idiots.

"Because Sophie was having an affair with Sterling," she said, "It happened shortly after she figured out you were having an affair with Maggie."

"Oh goodness graces," Sophie groaned.

Nate released a puff of air. His face turned a very dark shade of red. Parker was kind of worried. Was he running out of oxygen?

"You thought I was having an affair with Maggie?" He asked. His tone was quite unpleasant. "Parker, I couldn't even cheat on Maggie with Sophie. Do you honestly think I would be able to do that to her with Maggie? She's a grifter! I couldn't even hide it for very long if I did. All it would take would be once and hell would be the least of my worries!"

"Not to mention that Sterling and I were only meeting to discuss my condition and what I should do in the event that I'm discovered by some off-duty cop who just so happens to walk my way." Sophie replied, "I'm not having an affair with Jim Sterling."

"She can't even stand the guy!" Nate admitted. Ooh, he sounded jealous. He must not have known about the whole Sterling situation. She just got Sophie in serious trouble.

"Hardison said you were just making sure you weren't in danger of being arrested." The thief sighed in relief. Her family wasn't ending after all.

Hang on.

"Wait, you're replacing me?"

Sophie and Nate both rolled their eyes in that creepy unison way married couples did. It was even creepier when they both started talking to each other without words. Their eyes didn't even move away from each other. They were going to have some serious eye issues if they didn't blink son.

"We're not replacing you, Parker," Sophie said. "In fact, we were just discussing how to tell you that you were going to have a new member of the family."

"We were afraid you would think we were replacing you," Nate said, "Which we're not. We're increasing the family only. Starting a new branch."

"This baby will be your family too," Sophie added.

"We were actually hoping to name it after you," Nate nodded.

"Name it after me?" Now she was interested.

"Only if it's a girl," Sophie said, "If it's a boy his name is going to be Eliot Alexander."

"Hardison didn't really work with the flow and Alec was just awful," Nate said, "So we decided to do variations of his first name. Eliot Alexander and Parker Alicia."

"Maggie and Sterling are going to be the godparents."

Okay, that explained the big fight and why Nate was sleeping on the couch. Wait, no it didn't. Grandparents were mentioned during that conversation. What did that mean?

"What about the grandparents you mentioned?" Parker asked.

Sophie looked angry all of a sudden. Her eyes fell on Nate and death could be seen within them. Her lips pressed together tightly and her hands formed fists on her hips. Uh-oh!

"I found her parents," Nate said. He at least sounded guilty. That was good. He needed to stay alive so he could meet their new family member. "I thought they were still alive. I was right about her dad. Her mother died a long time ago."

"Her father's in prison because he was a very bad man," Parker nodded, "Hardison said Sterling was the one who did it. Then he said something about it being very funny that both of their mothers had the same name and died on the same day."

Sophie looked very sketchy then. And pale. She needed to sit down.

"Sterling's your brother," Nate raised his left eyebrow, "That explains a lot."

Parker didn't want to stay for the rest of their conversation anymore. So she just left them to it. They were starting a family after all. They needed the privacy while they could still get it.

Because she was going to visit their new baby as often as she wanted.


	34. Chapter 34

Tom Baker

He knew the very moment he said the name that he was in trouble. Tom Baker was supposed to be used in emergency situations, on the con only. He wasn't allowed to use that alias when not on the job. Sophie had threatened to kill him on several occasions the very first year he used it against her. But Hardison couldn't fight the fact that they needed a married couple set of aliases and Nate and Sophie were the only couple that could act married for an extended period of time. That still didn't give him the right to ignore the rules. He wasn't allowed to interfere with the grifter's personal life.

That didn't exactly mean he actually followed the rule.

"I'm her husband," he said.

He could see the grifter's eyes grow more narrow with those three simple words. The man she was having a lovely conversation with looked a little taken aback by that. He was suddenly very nervous, his cheeks red and face sweaty. His eyes were darting around, looking for an escape. Then he seemed to suddenly become very aware of the long-haired hitter at the mastermind's right side.

"She…" he coughed, "I didn't…"

Eliot at least had the decency to help the guy out. Nate was busy having a silent argument with the grifter. He was losing but that didn't matter. Eliot was taking care of the source of his problems.

"Hey, I'm Eliot. Why don't I buy ya a beer and explain just why you probably should have chosen any bar in Boston but this one."

The poor man had no choice but to leave at that one. All of the locals looked sorry for him. Nate didn't know why. It wasn't exactly like the man deserved their pity. The man had balls. He walked into his bar, Nathan Ford's bar, and dared to hit on his, Nathan Ford's, grifter. There was no need for pity from them. The guy was only getting what he deserved.

"We're getting a divorce," Sophie hissed. She was hoping it was loud enough for the poor man to hear. It was but he was ignoring it. Eliot had applied pressure on the man's shoulder, well establishing that she was still off limits where he was concerned.

Nate ordered himself a drink and waited. Sophie hadn't quite hit her peak in anger yet. She was too much like him in that aspect. She liked to brew before she lashed out. Of course, when she let her anger loose there was only hell to pay. He always bore the brunt of her frustrations too. It was almost as though it was his fault for getting blackmailed into hunting down Damien Moreau.

"You know Hardison warned you about doing this," she hissed.

Oh, she was ready. That was good.

"Doing what?" Nate asked, "I was merely introducing myself. You're the one who chose Sarah Jane as an alias. I was merely playing along."

She slammed her drink on the bar. Daggers poured from her eyes and she looked ready to murder him even with the infamous Eliot Spencer only feet away.

So she was really mad then.

"You can't keep doing this, Nathan."

Ooh, she used the full name. That was never a good thing. That always led to very bad things.

Yep, he was going to die.

"Doing what?" He pressed. He was brilliant when it came to simple things like being a mastermind or stealing a prison. He was absolutely stupid anywhere Sophie Devereaux was concerned. He learned that years ago. Now he just knew how to poke and prod her until she made the kill swift and easy. Hopefully Eliot wouldn't be too upset about mopping up the blood.

"This," she growled. And she was starting to attract the attention of the few locals who usually ignored their quarrels. That was just peachy. Her finger then shook in front of his face and he was called back to attention.

"You can't keep acting as if I'm your property, Nathan," she said, "That isn't how **we** work."

Ooh, she emphasized we. This was about to go into unchartered waters. If he acted quickly he could get her to leave. All he had to do was lie. Unfortunately he wasn't interested this time around. He kind of hated himself for it too.

"How dare you suggest you are property, Ms. Devereaux." Wow! He really was a bastard.

"I love how that is the one word you key in on and completely ignore the rest of it," she growled, "Nate, you have to stop doing this."

"You still haven't told me what **this** is."

She growled again. Then she cursed a few choice words, in five languages no less. That was quite unnecessary. All he did was make certain that man wasn't going to bed with her tonight. It's not his fault everybody in the bar leaves her alone. They knew him long before she ever did. He didn't tell them to leave her alone.

He thought it was Eliot.

"You need to stop acting like the jealous boyfriend," she said, "You're not and thus you should stop. I'm not going to wait around for you to come off your high horse and suddenly decide that you would much rather leave our friendship behind. There are many men in the world, and most of them are more deserving than you."

Ouch.

"Sophie, no man is good enough for you."

He polished off his drink while she tried to comprehend what he meant. Then he bowed his head and left the bar as if he was a decent man. He shouldn't have left it there. She was going to start to think he was the man she deserved. He wasn't.

Not anymore.

He didn't leave it alone. But she would never know. The hitter no longer did his dirty work. Sophie had won his allegiance on the Maltese Falcon when he lied to them. She lied first but she at least apologized. Apparently that was important to the hitter.

The poor man didn't even know what hit him.

"Oh my God, you're with the mob," the man cried.

He was a coward. Nate barely even touched him. All he did was direct the man into the alley and he was already screaming bloody murder. Eliot must have already threatened him. Oh well, the message needed to be made.

"Look," the man was handing over his wallet and the cash inside, "She didn't tell me she was married. I was only talking to her for a little bit. She started it."

Nate smiled despite himself. Sometimes he enjoyed being the bad guy. He enjoyed it too much. Maybe that was why Sophie was so upset when he wanted to take down his father. She was right. He couldn't, but the principle of it definitely was thrill enough to get him to try.

"Do you really think telling me she started it is going to be in your favor?"

The man flinched at the hidden meaning. Yet he still had the balls to stand on his two feet and try to reach full height. He was only a couple inches shorter, but Nate was using that to his advantage. Even Eliot would have been impressed… maybe.

"She's not your property, you know," he said, "It's over. You shouldn't get angry just because she's moving on without you."

Well, he had a point.

"True." Nate nodded his head. Then he stepped forward and made certain his last few words had the right double meaning he intended. "But you're not who she'll be moving on with."

The man's face fell quite considerably.

"What's to stop me from calling her anyway?" He asked.

"Me," Nate replied, "She deserves to be worshipped like a queen… not treated like a princess. I don't think you know the difference… Do you?"

The man shook his head slowly. He looked down at his phone. Then he looked up to see just what he could do. He made up his mind immediately.

"You don't deserve her," he said.

"Yeah," Nate grinned, "But I'm willing to try."

The man left before he even had time to gloat. That didn't really matter. He got the message. He would back off. Sophie Devereaux may be available, but she wasn't available to just anyone. Nate would make sure of that. He would protect her at all costs.

Including his own heart.


	35. Chapter 35

The Tap-Out Job

"Everything on my plate was yellow."

She was still complaining about the food. They had left Nebraska eight hours ago and she was still complaining about the food. They were home and she finally had a meal set to her standards.

And she was still complaining about the food.

She was a princess.

"How do they expect a person to feel at home when everything on their plate was yellow?" She asked, "I thought Nebraska was famous for the potato not corn."

Nate sighed deeply. "Nebraska is famous for its steaks. Idaho is the one famous for their potatoes."

"I thought Idaho was famous for cheese," she looked unsettled, "Which state's famous for its cheese."

"Wisconsin," he could feel the headache coming on, "How do you not know this? You've traveled the entire world twice already."

"Three times but how am I supposed to get this country's stereotypes memorized perfectly?" She growled, "This country is too bloody big. Eventually that's going to be its downfall."

"Which post-apocalyptic book are you reading now?"

"Hunger Games," Sophie sighed, "Parker showed interest in it so naturally I'm reading it and she's pretending she knows what's going on. At least she's attempting to try normal things."

"As opposed to a certain grifter acting like a little snood because of some Chicken Fried Steak," Nate teased.

"Chicken should not be used as an adjective." She was actually looking very frustrated with him. It was like it was his fault she didn't like normal food. "It is chicken, a poultry. Meat. It is not an adjective!"

"Welcome to America!" He cheered. He even used jazz hands because he was pretty sure that would make her feel better. It didn't. Her features grew very petulant.

"America was founded by British snoods," she said, "That is no excuse for horrible food."

"America was won by a whole bunch of mad business men who used the bulkiness of the country and the natural landscape against the British. Guerilla Warfare and they had the indecency to be surprised when the Vietcong used it against us during the Vietnam War. We're founded by a nation of cheaters and idealists."

"You're the American," she sighed, "I'm actually British thank you very much."

"Well, it's hard to tell considering you won't even tell me your real name."

Oops, he should not have gone there. He knew she didn't need to tell him everything about herself. She had a boyfriend. He had no right to pry into her personal life. He left her for six months, standing in an airport for good. Then he refused to let her, them, back into his life.

At least she told him her country of origin.

"We've know each other for over ten years and you're still clueless about how we work," she shook her head, "I don't tell you everything about me and you can't help but get sucked into my grip just all that more. Why do you think I don't like Chicken Fried Steak."

"You haven't tried it have you?" He knew she hadn't. She was too much of a princess to even dare to try. Of course, she prepared her own ammo.

"Is the coffee a good substitute for alcohol?"

Low blow but he could let it go. He knew how to get his revenge too.

Eliot was making Chicken Fried Steak for dinner.


	36. Chapter 36

The Two Live Crew Job

She was dead. For one brief moment, Sophie Devereaux was dead. Nate couldn't help that one slight moment of true emotion as he stared at her.

"Whatever you do, don't look at me when you go to close the casket."

She warned him that very morning, before all of this damn funeral business started. She knew he would immediately think of Sam. It was his default as far as emotional distress went. She knew he would see little Sam in his tiny casket.

Only he didn't.

All he saw were the missed opportunities. He only saw the hurried glances and quick touches. The small smiles that always hinted at an invitation for more. He saw the way the sunlight shimmered in her hair and made her brown eyes sparkle like amber. He saw her mysterious laughter and the way she mothered each member of the team completely unaware she was doing it. He only saw the times they spent together, chasing each other around the world and working together as a team.

He saw the way Parker brightened under the grifter's tutelage. The girl was discovering all of the wonders of human beings far too late in life. Sophie made it possible for her to understand them. She was the thief's gateway into the human world. And Parker finally had a female companion to look up to.

Hardison was equally improving under the grifter's guidance. He always found a way to ask her about how to approach his delicate "thing" with Parker. He sought Sophie for advice when Eliot was probably a better fit. It wasn't because the hitter couldn't help him. It was because Sophie knew how to help Parker. The hacker wasn't looking to fix her and the grifter knew how to help him deal with it. Plus, he really needed to learn how to hide his emotions.

Eliot needed Sophie as well. The hitter didn't say it, but he liked having somebody who could help protect them. The grifter didn't do much, but what she did made an impact. She knew how to read his moods and quickly bossed the others into acting accordingly. She would check in on his emotional levels and give him exactly what he needed to relax. She was his entry into feeling human again and he had absolutely no idea she was doing it.

Then there was him, Nathan Ford. He lost his son, his baby boy, the most precious thing in the world. There was no surviving that. There was only existence. Until Sophie Devereaux came into the picture.

They hadn't seen each other in two years. He sought her out. She betrayed them, betrayed him. Yet, she still knew how to keep him breathing. She badgered him about his drinking, berated him for taking his anger out on the others, and somehow managed to give him something to hold onto and live for. She didn't even have the decency to realize she was doing either.

No, that woman was completely unaware that she was becoming an angel. She was the one pushing him to fight for the clients nowadays. She was the one who made certain each member of their team was okay at the end of the day. She worried and fretted over every tiny detail of the con. She always pestered him about the possible dangers, the plans he didn't like to talk about. She was the one who came up with an escape route for Eliot during that MMA job in Nebraska. Hell, she even figured out how to make Parker more comfortable when she didn't know how to deal with her emotions. Hardison never stayed up into the wee hours of the morning when she was there. He went to bed at eleven and started work at seven, taking the couch for the night.

She was confused about who she was. He knew what she was becoming. He just wished she would have figured it out long before this.

They were supposed to be partners in crime and for a moment; she left him all alone.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

He never wanted to feel that again.

So he closed the casket and thanked the god he had abandoned when Sam died. That very God had granted him a blessing. The sunglasses could hide away his tears. His fingers didn't falter as they gently knocked on the casket's top. His feet didn't give any sign that he was almost completely undone by the image of Sophie Devereaux in a coffin.

It was all just a con.

And he was going to make certain it stayed that way.


	37. Chapter 37

The Three Card Monte Job

His father. He wanted to take down his own father. Was he really that insane?

She was the one who made the mistake. She knew it and he knew it too. She wanted to make the bad guys suffer for this one. She knew what making an honest man break the law would do to a person. She wasn't the only member of the team who knew either.

They did that to Nate.

It was why he kept denying he was a thief. He felt guilty for the crimes. Okay, he felt ashamed of what he became. He knew he was becoming a thief just like the others. He didn't like it. He hated that tiny little fact. It wasn't because of them. It had never been because of them.

It was because of his father.

He thought he was becoming his father. What better way for his Jesuit Catholic mind to relieve itself of that bloody Catholic guilt? He wasn't just trying to take down Jimmy Ford. He was trying to take out Nathan Ford as well. The son was trying to over throw the father.

He was trying to embrace the fact that he was a thief while simultaneously taking down the very ghost that has been haunting him since his childhood began.

He actually thought he could take down his own father. He was absolutely mad.

"You can't take down your own father," she said.

They were having this same argument. She felt like it was going forever. He kept telling her he was fine. She kept reminding him that he wasn't. All he had to do was admit it. Admitting it would make him feel better. She knew it would.

"Sophie, we can't keep having this same discussion." He sounded tired. She knew the feeling.

"It's not so much of a discussion as me berating you for being stupid and you just taking it," she sighed.

He smiled for a brief moment. He looked so much younger when he smiled. It really was a shame when it disappeared from his beautiful face. She actually saw the features he inherited from his father now. It was nice to be able to see that. It made her wish she could have met his mother, that he could meet her parents.

"What do you want from me, Soph?" He asked, "Do you want me to admit something to you?"

"Yes, I want you to admit that you can't take down your own father," she said.

"Why would I admit that?"

"Because he's your father!" She couldn't contain her anger any longer. He really was an idiot. It wasn't fair how stupid he could be. She shouldn't have to be his moral compass.

She was a professional grifter!

"No matter what you say he is still the man who raised you. You can't honestly tell me that you can put him back in prison when that violates everything you believe."

"Why are you pushing this?" He yelled back, "He's my dad! It should be my decision to make! What is he to you?"

"He's your father," she said, "Why else would I want him to be taken out of this? I don't want you to do this because you shouldn't have to take down your own father."

"I can do it," he lied.

"No you can't, but I don't expect you to either," she replied.

He only closed his eyes and sighed. Then he turned towards the door and left to go join his father on some other part of his plans. He was once again ignoring his own emotional discourse. He needed to practice what he preached.


	38. Chapter 38

The Twelve Step Job

The D.T.'s were getting bad. He knew that from the very beginning. He was expecting Sam. Sterling wasn't that big of a leap though. They used to be friends. It was Sam who ended that friendship. They were old rivals. They played chess in their heads with almost no idea what move the other would make. It made sense to see Sterling as far as hallucinations went.

He was not expecting to see Sophie Devereaux.

He actually thought it was really her at first. Her black eyes were narrowed and her hands were practically glued to her hips. Her petulant grimace was shining on her face. She even had those glasses and shoes that made her secretly very attractive.

"Okay, Soph, I know what you're going to say, but I need something to do. You haven't given me anything to do. It's a wonder I haven't lost my mind already."

She simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Look you're not exactly innocent either," he said, "I mean, you could have signed me out hours ago. You could have saved us the trouble and signed me out when that damn doctor wouldn't let me out of here. I'm not an addict."

"Keep telling yourself that," she huffed. He thought she was still angry with him.

"But I'm not," he replied, "I don't get angry when I haven't had a drink. I don't constantly crave the taste of whiskey on my lips… though that does sound good right about now. A nice, giant gulp of that brassy liquid would just hit the spot… I'm not a drunk! Drunks can't think straight! They only care about themselves and do any crazy thing they can to get themselves another drink."

"Right," she said, "because trying to climb the wall of a rehabilitation center isn't crazy."

"okay, I see your point," he sighed, "Maybe I should have actually came out and told you. I'm sorry. This Hurley guy has just been grating on my nerves like you wouldn't believe. Honestly if you were stuck with the guy for as long as I have…"

"I would have realized I had a problem and admitted it," she said.

He turned to her and gave her the appropriate glare for the comment. He actually thought about shaking her, but that made him feel guilty. She was only trying to be helpful. But she kept looking at him like she'd given up hope. Like he was nothing but a disappointment, a shadow of who he used to be. Like he wasn't the man he used to be.

He really needed a drink.

"I don't think a drink is going to help you this time around, Nate." She started pacing around him, drawing his attention as she probably always would. "I think you're going to have to admit a few things about your own character. Like why you're hallucinating people when you supposedly aren't going through withdrawal."

"Not actually in rehab, Soph," he repeated for the sixteenth time that day alone, "Pretending."

"Well you certainly have us fooled," she chimed.

He realized her wording right before he spoke. Her movements were off. They were short and sharp, orderly. There was no sway of the hips. Her shoulders didn't give off friendliness or a false sense of security. She was completely rigid, giving off the vibe of a viper about to strike. Her jaw was clenched. Her fingers struggled through her hair impatiently.

She wasn't just mimicking him.

"You're a hallucination," he gasped.

She simply nodded her head. Then a smile that wasn't hers flashed upon her face.

"It's funny what the mind perceives," she sighed, "Remember when I used to wear sexy little negligees and traipsed around in Paris."

As she spoke, her appearance changed. It wasn't a negligees as expected. Her boots became black stilettos. Her dress was now a pair of jeans and a puffy blouse. Her hair curled and her lips turned red. Her eyes looked smoky and she looked ready to kill. That was the Sophie Devereaux he used to know.

"Remember when I used to appear with a gun pointed at you?"

He remembered.

"You had nightmares for weeks afterwards," she continued, "In fact, wasn't there one where I threatened Sam and we celebrated with a passionate kiss?"

He stared at her… it, dumbfounded.

"You've changed," she said, "It started when Sam died. You started picturing me more often than your own wife. You imagined us driving along the hillsides of Ireland, the streets of Paris. Anything that would get you away from your wife and your dead son. I was your rescuer."

"You were my personal Hell," he replied.

She simply nodded. "Your punishment for being the cause of the death of your son."

"I'm not an alcoholic!" He didn't mean to shout. She was making him angry. He couldn't control his emotions around her. He never could.

"It was the only way to get rid of me," she shrugged, "You took a drink and I would slowly disappear. One sip of whiskey and my smile would be gone. Another, and the way my hair shined in the moonlight was less lustrous. You were definitely avoiding something."

"It wasn't you," he said, "It was Sam. My baby boy is dead, Sophie. What other choice did I have?"

"Sam doesn't disappear when you drink," she replied.

She had him there. Sam became a sharper image with every sip. His little boy lived every time he fell asleep. He could play baseball and talk about his school day. He wasn't sick. He was alive and well and back in his arms, laughing.

And Sophie wasn't there to ruin everything.

"I'm not responsible for your son's death," she said, "Blackpoole is."

"I see you when I sleep." He felt like he was confessing in front of a priest. She was his pardon for his crimes. "Sometimes you're his mother. I tell you the truth and we take Blackpoole down together. We don't get divorced. We don't end. We stay. We fight. We're together."

"But not with Maggie," she nodded.

"Not with Maggie," he agreed.

"I think that's part of the problem," she winked.

And just like that she was gone.

She had a point though. Drinking was the only way to get rid of her. He'd never craved a drink more than right then when she started talking about his darkest secrets. She revealed his soul and he craved alcohol. He was an alcoholic. He wanted that whiskey now more than ever. And there was only one way to get it.

Hurley was going to talk.


	39. Chapter 39

The Underground Job

"We're going to convince him that you're a lying greedy bitch."

There were many reactions normal women would have at that one line. Most of them did not look good for Nate. He would have been slapped, kicked or hollered at. He would have been given several choice words. None of them would have been good.

But she was a grifter by nature as well as by trade. She was used to doing things ordinary women wouldn't stand for. That was probably why she only nodded her head and smiled.

She could see the meaning behind his words. She knew it was nothing meant towards her. He was only thinking about the con. He was always thinking about the con. He would never do anything to purposely hurt her.

Unless they were fighting. Then all bets were off.

His relayed his plan to the others. She had figured out where he was going the moment he said they were admitting she lied. It was nice to hear the others defending her so admirably. Parker was the one who had the most words to say about his words. It was sweet that she sounded so offended. Even if she didn't quite understand the proper context of the statement.

He fought through their arguments to remind them of their business. He laid out the plan and explained everything. Then he turned off his com and sat back. His blue eyes turned towards her and guilt suddenly shimmered within them.

She stared at him and tried to understand what he was getting at.

"I'm sorry," he coughed, "For calling you… I should have phrased that differently."

"I understood what you meant," she laughed, "It's not like we haven't called each other names before."

"Yeah but we weren't working together then," he said, "And it's usually justified when we're arguing."

"You're such a Jesuit," she said. She couldn't help but laugh at the little frown that formed on his face. He actually took that as an insult. Oh well, there was no pleasing that man.

"It wasn't fair," he said, "I shouldn't… I'm not saying that you're not… I didn't mean to say it like that… is all."

"You do realize that I already let you off the hook a long while ago."

He looked at her as if she was insane. She was pretty certain he was the one who was insane. She did everything but all out forgive him and he couldn't accept it. Honestly it wasn't fair. She was trying to be the better person and all he was doing was acting like an ass.

Typical Nate Ford.

"Friends can let things go," she winked.

He perked up at that. She was about to question that when his phone rang. Apparently he picked the wrong moment to turn off the com. Hardison had a lot to say and she was most definitely in trouble as well. Nate gave her an apologetic look as he listened to the rant.

Their important discussion was going to have to wait for a better time.


	40. Chapter 40

Wildcard: Angst

Sophie felt the knife burrow into her chest. She knew it was a long shot. There was no way she could survive this. Her lungs were on fire and stars were trying to block her view. She couldn't breathe.

She felt herself be caught by another body. Dean Winchester was staring at her with total fear in his eyes. He was pulling her against his chest and telling her that she was going to be fine. His brother, Sam, was right there with him. His hands were covered in her blood. He was trying to stem the flow. It was useless. She knew it.

"Hold on, Sophie," Dean chanted, "You're going to be okay."

She wanted to give him a message. She wanted Nate to know that she loved him. That she was sorry she couldn't give him what he wanted. She was sorry she couldn't stay alive. She did what he told her to. She stayed locked away in that church because that was where the demons couldn't get her.

He just forgot to calculate that they would send someone after Paul.

His childhood friend and priest was staring at her in shock. He was the one the thug meant to put a knife into. He was scuffling with them every step of the way. One thug punched him while he beat up the other one. He was doing so well until one of them got in a lucky shot. The only reason she was there was because she heard a commotion at the altar. When she saw the knife she just reacted. She had to push him out of the way.

Sophie Devereaux breathed her very last breath not even a second later.

%%%%%

Dean and Sam were feeling guilty. The paramedics arrived moments after Sophie stopped breathing. They took her away from them and started pumping away at her. One of them said her heart wasn't beating. Another one was calling for the paddle. Their other companion did as ordered.

They arrived at the hospital before the ambulance. It was a perk of knowing the local thugs of the town. Nate's crew knew the back roads and showed them around during that ghost job a few years ago. Knowing those roads gave them the advantage of calling the others and arriving in time to make certain no demons were lurking.

Nate arrived the same time the ambulance did. He was rushing towards them just as Sophie's gurney appeared through the ER. Dean's heart fell when he realized the paramedics weren't rushing anymore. They were still working on bringing the grifter back, but they didn't look like they were succeeding.

Her brown eyes were still wide open, her mouth agape ever so slightly.

"What happened?" The mastermind demanded.

His eyes found their way to the grifter seconds later. His worried face turned off immediately. His blue eyes lost all life and his mouth fell open. The only expression that described his face was fear. The devastation didn't seem like a good enough summary.

"Time of death: eight fifteen," somebody said.

Dean closed his eyes, knowing what that meant.

Nate jumped towards the grifter before anybody could stop him. He stopped the paramedics from covering her with a sheet. He forced it away and wrapped his arms around her. He started shaking her and screaming.

"Wake up, Soph! You come back to me right now! Don't you dare leave me! Don't you dare die!"

Then he pulled her against him and said, "I need you."

The doctors looked stunned by his reaction. One of them asked the others if he was the husband. Eliot must have said he was because nobody was touching him. They were allowing him the proper time to mourn. Of course, Dean and the others were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sophie's body was taken away when Nate finally released her. He watched her go as if he expected her to return any moment. Then his entire demeanor changed when the elevator doors closed. He turned to Paul and punched him square in the jaw.

"You were supposed to protect her!" He shouted, throwing more punches the priest's way.

Nurses and orderlies were trying to break up the fight. Eliot and the hunters let Parker and Hardison deal with them. Together, Dean and Eliot pulled the mastermind off of the priest while Sam tried to comfort him. Nate sent them some curses for interrupting his revenge. Then he lapsed into a bout of inconsolable sobs. One of the doctors offered to sedate him.

They probably shouldn't have let Parker make the decision.

In normal worlds that would be the end of the story. The man would lose everything and the others were just left to find a way to help him heal. But they weren't normal. Even by thief standards Nathan Ford's crew wasn't normal. The man was the godfather of two people who hunted the things that went bump in the night. Of course, this story wouldn't be normal.

It stopped being normal the very moment they got Nate to sit down to a meal.

%%%%

Sophie sat up screaming. A thin, white sheet barely covered her naked body. There was a bright blue light shining down on her from every direction. She felt cold and the table she was on felt metallic. It took her a few minutes for her eyes to adjust properly. She was in the morgue, freshly undead.

She grabbed herself a lab coat and some scrubs. She stole a badge from a passerby. She broke into the locker room to grab some civilian clothes. She almost didn't make it out of the hospital. She lied about not finding the food court and was led to an exit by an unsuspecting doctor who obviously hadn't had sleep in over thirty-two hours.

She walked the entire way back to the apartment in L.A. Nate hadn't felt comfortable leaving her in the church and not having a place to stay. It was owned by some alias of his that Hardison created specifically for the apartment. The man had great credit but never owned an apartment before. It wasn't even saved under Nate's alias. Legally it belonged to Eliot.

She entered a bit frazzled and confused. She could tell they weren't expecting any visitors. Eliot was positioned to protect the others from Nate. Dean had a direct eyeline on the door. His face was not a happy one when he realized it was her walking through. Eliot stiffened slightly but didn't say anything. Sam was nowhere in sight. The others couldn't see her yet.

"Our problems just got worse," Dean replied to some comment Hardison made off-handedly. The hacker was sitting beside the hunter and had only just caught onto her arrival. His mouth was hanging open in complete and total disbelief.

"Why?" Someone asked.

"Because somebody brought me back," she replied.

Everybody turned to her with very shocked expressions. Maybe she should have gone with a gentler opener.

_Kill Nathan Ford_, a voice whispered.


	41. Chapter 41

Birthdays and Anniversaries

1.

Sam was born in a battery shaped hospital in Highpoint, North Carolina. It was Nate's fault. Blackpoole had him investigating an inside job in Raleigh, a complete waste of his talents, because it was domestic and that was what he requested. The lead had him Greensboro looking for a tall, skinny man with dark, spiky hair and little else to go on.

Nate made a left to talk to his informant. Maggie came along because they hadn't had time together in forever, and pretty soon they never could again for a few years at least. A few wrong turns and several choice words later, they were effectively lost. Maggie tried to be calm and encouraging. She had stomach issues all day and Nate was more frazzled than usual because of it. Then they made another left and her water broke.

Looking back, Nate should have known that was going to happen. It wasn't like they were too close to the due date or anything. They even went to the doctor to get clearance to travel that far. There was no reasonable explanation for Sam to pick that moment to appear. But he did. They went through a whole bunch of madness and paperwork in the hospital, but Sam arrived happy, healthy and hungry.

He was perfect.

%%%%%

On his birthday, Sam receives three flowers on his grave. The first is a geranium, any color because Maggie loves them all no matter what shape or size. The next is a white lily for practicality's sake. The third and final one has almost no connection to Sam at all, on the surface. A buttercup stands at attention on the grave because that was the first flower Nathan Ford received from Sophie Devereaux the day they met all those years ago. It is significant because the day they met was three days after Sam was born.

She was the thief he was tracking.

2.

The day Sam died should have ended him too. Nate was dead positive of that long ago. But he still continued breathing. He still got up every morning, usually with a hangover. He still ate and drank like a normal human being. And suddenly two years passed, then three. Now, four years later, he was starting to feel like Sam's death gave him a new purpose, and wasn't in vain.

A light hand on his shoulder made him flinch away guiltily. She knew the significance of the three flowers and still she didn't say anything. She just stood by his side and acted as if she'd done it for years. And that was how they spent the anniversary of Sam's death. Standing side by side, carefully watching Sam's tiny grave.

3.

Parker's birthday was always an elaborate event. The team, mostly Hardison and Sophie, considered it a sin that her birthday parties were non-existent until they came into her life. The first time they discovered this, the hacker spared no expense in decorations or present. The next year Sophie went just as extravagant. They then attempted to make her a surprise party. Nate's apartment nearly burned down from the havoc the tiny thief caused.

She thought it was an attack until she realized they yelled surprise. She couldn't stop gushing over it even now.

This year was going to be no different.

The cake was a catered giant. (Sophie refused to allow the hitter to make birthday cakes. Celebrations were apparently his day off. They spent a week fighting and haggling just to get him to do a simple dinner and/or breakfast. It became a little inside joke that the only opponent who could truly beat Eliot Spencer was Sophie Devereaux.) The plates and decorations were purchased at some cheap party place because Parker mentioned they were cool once over the years and they became the dining tradition. Eliot was making an assortment of fortune cookie and cereal hor d'oeuvres. Nate was having fun mixing orange soda drinks. Hardison was distracting the thief while everyone got things together.

The presents were pretty tame as far as the team was concerned. Nate gave them a budget and they all, mostly, stuck to it. They purchased things the thief never had as a good that she always wanted. She didn't even reveal they were never hers until recently. They all agreed her face would be priceless.

%%%%

"I'm fine, I swear," Parker mumbled, "I didn't even eat that much sugar."

Later, much later when the hacker and hitter finally decided to leave because it was much too late to stay. The thief was slouched over a bucket in the kitchen. She didn't make it very far before she got sick to her stomach. Now Sophie was hovering over her and pretending it was to make herself tea and not to cater to the thief's needs. Parker, thankfully, seemed to be okay with the attention.

"Lie down on the couch," Sophie said, "I'll bring the bucket over in a few."

"I'm not a baby," Parker muttered indignantly. But she still ventured over to the couch and dared to demand her bunny and a blanket.

Nate smiled at Sophie's mothering and started to comply to the thief's plans. As he was unwrapping the blanket he realized what was going on. Similar situations happened after every party Sam attended. He and Maggie would constantly take care of him and his upset tummy. The poor boy would always mumble about not being a baby and being able to take care of himself. Maggie would always give him a knowing look, the same look Sophie was giving him now.

Nate smiled through the pain that suddenly hit his chest. Though she had no blonde hair, the grifter knew how to make him smile. She was going to be the one he would strive to please. He messed up big time with Maggie. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. Sophie would make sure of it.

"What are you smiling about?" Sophie asked with narrowed eyes.

He almost didn't answer. He was so stunned by the innocence in her voice. She really had no idea just how much she meant to him. Or how much of the happy memories of his past she brought up.

"You spoil her, you know," he said. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her into his chest. "How do you expect her to survive without us if you keep throwing her expensive bashes on her birthday? We'll never be rid of her at this rate."

Sophie eyed him warily as if he had grown three heads. A smile broke out on her lips and she laughed. "Nathan Ford, are you actually joking? I'm shocked. I never thought I would see the day."

He shrugged.

"You know me. I'm just full of surprises."

4.

He was nervous when he married Maggie. That was the only thing he could really remember about the wedding. He was constantly checking his watch. He regretted the fact that they agreed to get married so late into the evening. He was up at five after going to bed at three in the morning. Their wedding was set for three in the afternoon.

He went through many stages of doubt during the hours he had before Maggie became his wife. He decided he was going to leave her at the alter twice. Then he would think about the look on her face and realized he was an even bigger bastard than he thought. He actually came up with a list of reasons why he should never marry Maggie.

He gave it to her the day they got a divorce. He watched her eyes tear up with every word she read. He didn't even have the balls to stay long enough to see her reaction on the final sentence.

_I'm not good enough_ was thrown back into his face the very moment he told her the truth about Sam. He didn't know she made her own additions. He only saw his tiny scrawl and the twenty-one points that had everything to do with what was wrong with him and how perfect she was.

Her addition still stung though.

_I fell in love with a woman named Sophie Devereaux._

He couldn't help but wonder when she knew.

5.

He wasn't nervous. He thought it was because they decided to do it spur of the moment. They had been engaged for five weeks. Those five weeks seemed like an eternity. He wanted to elope but he knew that was unacceptable. She deserved to have a big, grand affair.

She still chose the eloping option.

She wore a dress. It wasn't white. She already had that wedding with William. No, it was a simple blue dress that she said matched his eyes. He took her at her word because he wasn't going to complain. He loved the way that dress hugged her every curve. He felt his throat close and he was dead certain he wasn't going to be able to take it off when the day was over.

He wore a tux because he promised her he would. It didn't look nearly as good as she did. He actually felt guilty for it. He wanted to apologize but she just placed her finger on his lips and shook her head. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and nodded to their minister.

Hardison, naturally, volunteered to get himself ordained. Nate only agreed because that meant Eliot could be his best man. It wasn't that he didn't trust the hacker. He just knew the hitter would give life and limb before losing Sophie's wedding ring. Plus, that meant Parker would be able to distract the boy whenever he wanted to give the bride his full attention.

Nobody else attended the affair. Nobody knew it was going on. They just found the perfect private island and commandeered it for the week. Sophie saw it during one of their boating trips and said that would be the most romantic place to be married ever. Nate surprised her by offering to buy the property immediately. He told her it was her early wedding gift, one of many.

Now they were standing on the porch and exchanging vows over a beautiful sunrise on the water. They were on a lake surrounded by mountains. There was nothing that could stop them from enjoying the moment. Even the sudden rainclouds didn't hinder their joy.

"You may now kiss the bride," Hardison said. He skipped through a whole bunch of the regular stuff. He hit the vows, the rings and the end. That was good enough for them.

Sophie leaned in for the kiss. Nate grinned and shook his head. He pulled her against him and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Then he picked her up and ran towards the water. She didn't even have time to scream before they were both swallowed by the lake water. The others were yelling and shouting when they surfaced. It didn't really matter that they were wearing evening wear. The rain had already soaked them through. Why not make their first kiss as husband and wife memorable?

"Come here," Sophie ordered through a fit of giggles.

She somehow managed to grab onto his belt buckle and pull him towards her. How she did it in the murky water, he didn't know. He also didn't care. In his opinion, Sophie Devereaux had never looked more beautiful than she did right then and there. Her hair was drench and her make-up all but smeared. But her lips were very inviting and her hands were comfortably playing with his hair.

He kissed her and refused to let go.


	42. Chapter 42

Breakfast in Bed:

Sophie Devereaux had one rule about dating Nathan Ford. Okay, it wasn't exactly one rule. In fact it was more around twenty million if Parker was counting correctly. Which was unlikely, it was Parker after all.

Anyway, the most important of these rules was rule number four hundred twenty-seven. (Again, according to Parker.) Breakfast must be served in bed every Sunday no earlier than eleven o'clock in the morning.

He'd been good at keeping up with this one crucial rule. Until today.

Today was the day he decided not to indulge her one bloody fantasy. No, instead he decided to go off and disappear on her in the middle of the night with absolutely no consideration for her feelings. So she decided she was just going to ignore him the next time he called. She was just going to forget about whatever little arrangement it was they had and ignore him until he was on his knees, groveling for her favor.

At least that was her plan. The screaming tea kettle sort of sideswiped that plan. The tea was burnt, ruined beyond all repair. Nate knew better than that. If he was intentionally leaving her why would he choose to destroy an innocent cup of tea?

She probably shouldn't have called Eliot. She was totally overreacting. Nate just stepped out and forgot all about the tea. He was just looking for some foreign ingredient she didn't have that he had to have. He was getting good at that whole cooking thing. He could even make the best eggs benedict she'd ever tasted. It was even better than Eliot's, though she had a feeling that's because he was using the hitter's recipe and improvised certain ingredients he didn't have.

But this was ridiculous.

"He's fine," she shrugged, "He's just doing something stupid or ridiculous. I don't even know…"

"He's currently sitting in the airport waiting for a plane to…" The hacker made a few clicks before finishing, "Boston. That's not good."

"Today's Sunday," Parker said, "We're not allowed to start jobs on Sundays."

"He made that rule shortly after you two…" Eliot left it at that and made a face that was very uncharacteristic of him. He then nodded to the hacker to change the subject. His next topic was highly unreasonable and startling.

"She was probably drugged half an hour ago."

"Wait, what?" Sophie was highly confused. How could she have possibly been drugged? Wait, "Who was drugged?"

"Slowed thinking rate, pupils fully dilated," Eliot sighed, "But she still has the ability to walk around and identify everything wrong with the kitchen. You were drugged because you were a witness."

"But I woke up in bed like usual," Sophie argued. She was starting to notice something unusual about her voice. It sounded normal, not Sophie Devereaux normal, her real voice normal.

"You've been drugged with this before." Eliot nodded, "That means these people have absolutely no idea who you are."

"Or they overestimated their crap." Hardison growled, "I'm currently looking into Sophie's medical history and even I have no idea what she's immune to and I know her. There is no way the people responsible could have known."

"I called Eliot!" Why was she so cheery? She was practically jumping down in excitement over it. There was a reason behind it. What was that? "Oh! I knew something was wrong because he burnt the tea which is why I called Eliot."

Maybe she was high after all. She didn't feel any different but that was the current problem. Her mind wasn't functioning properly. She could definitely tell that one was true. She was too busy trying to come up with reasonable reasons for the mastermind to burn her tea… She was also spending way too much time focusing on the fact that he burnt her tea. He never burnt her tea. He learned that lesson on day one when he made her a cup of tea and ruined it so much she gave him a thirty minute lecture on it. Then she bought him several books about it for Christmas just so he would understand…

Okay, now everybody was staring at her in complete and utter shock. Did she do something wrong? Maybe she said that last part out loud?

"Any idea what happened?"

Eliot wasn't looking at her with much hope. No, that was mostly concern upon his features. He was more interested in trying to figure out how long the side effects of the drug in her system would last. He was calculating. She could see it in his eyes. He was figuring out how long she was drugged and what that meant for the mastermind.

"I guess we're going to Boston," he finally said, "We've just got one problem."

"Nate's phone is no longer on which means they are currently in flight?" Hardison wasn't being polite. There was absolutely no reason for sarcasm at this point in time. He needed to focus.

So did she.

"Eliot thinks Sophie won't be allowed on the plane because she's drugged up." Parker giggled at the very idea of it. "He's forgetting about that one time when Nate was in prison…"

That was her cue.

"I'll be fine," she said, "We'll just have to keep my mind busy while we're going. I think it would be best if Parker goes through my wallet and makes certain there is only one license in it. I can do everything else, I promise."

She probably shouldn't have promised anything. Her head started buzzing the very moment the plane took off. She had to close her eyes just to keep herself from giving them away. The good news was she had every single flight attendant convinced she was afraid of flying but her business required her to do it anyway. They even gave her a free bag of chocolates to make her feel better. Now she was wishing she could be anywhere else but in the car with Parker. The thief was driving like a mad woman.

"I'm going to be sick," she mumbled to herself. She heard Eliot curse and cringed. So, she was still having trouble controlling the volume of her voice. That was pleasant news.

"Parker, slow down a little." The hitter called, "We're not sure where we're going and the last thing we need is Sophie getting sick in our substitute ambulance/hospital."

The thief didn't even bother to acknowledge him. The van just slowed and started obeying traffic signs. Hardison was clicking away somewhere to the left, which only made the grifter's headache more pronounced. She was seriously considering killing him when the typing stopped. She sighed in relief and tried to look normal.

"Nate's in the warehouse district in Boston," Hardison said, "Anybody want to guess why that is?"

"An old mark has finally decided to extract his revenge," Sophie replied automatically. Then she realized that was the right train of thought and tried to place where that idea came from. Eliot noticed, naturally.

"Which mark wants revenge?" He asked, "Latimer couldn't possibly be alive. Dubenich, well I wouldn't put it past the bastard but doubtful."

Sophie tried to concentrate. Her mind was too busy noting all of the distressed markings on her team though. It was focusing on one minor detail like usual. She couldn't even figure out why the color blue was swirling around her mind.

"He was wearing a blue suit," she said, "Marc Jacobs. It wasn't brand new. I'd say three seasons old."

"The mark had money which means he was able to get out that way," Eliot grinned, "Hardison do your thing and expand the search to include family members both known and unknown. We need to know who this guy is before we go barreling in there."

"He was surprised to see me!" Sophie cheered. She could almost remember his face. She could barely remember the sound of his voice but she knew he wasn't expecting her to be there. There was something else, a certain smell. "He was wearing Nate's cologne, the one I bought him for his birthday a few years ago. Tommy Hillfigure. I bought it in Prague."

"Oh, I know what this is," Hardison cheered. He was already clacking away like nobody's business. There was that headache coming back with a vengeance. She was seriously considering bashing her skull into the nearest hard object and ending the pain immediately. Then an idea slowly occurred to her.

"He bashed Nate's head in." She frowned as the memory slowly became clearer with every word, "But it was just a simple smack. Nate came up with wide eyes. Whoever this man is, he was standing behind me during the attack."

"He drugged you first so you would forget or blackout everything that happened next," Eliot nodded, "Hardison, you need to get us to Nate now."

"It's somebody from Nate's past," she muttered. She was quite sure that's what she said. She couldn't exactly remember after that. The world started swirling around her and tilted on its axis suddenly. Then everything went black.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

She awoke in a bed of cotton and softness. That was very important. Her headache was nothing but a dull roar. So for whatever reason she was in bed it was long enough for the drug to make its way completely out of her system. There was something else. Someone was in the bed with her.

The grifter turned her head slowly, very slowly. Every muscle in her body was sore. She didn't know why but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. Now she was staring at Nathan Ford, sleeping beside her. His face was barely even covered in bruises. She could reach out and touch him without disturbing him. So she reached out and gently laid a hand on his forehead.

His blue eyes popped open immediately. That intense blue gaze of his held nothing but fear as his head swiveled towards her. His own hand shot up and grabbed her hand, latching onto it as if it meant the difference between life and death itself. She recognized the moment he knew where he was and who was beside him. The relief that flooded his eyes was almost disturbing, almost.

"I thought they poisoned you," he said.

She became aware of the bruising on his hands then. There was bruising around his neck too. The wounds were mostly fight wounds, the kind you get when you are fighting several people at once. She was used to seeing them on Eliot. The man knew how to get himself in and out of trouble almost as well as Nathan Ford. But seeing those marks on Nate, that only made her worry grow more.

A stray hair fell into his face and her hand automatically rose to collect it. Then her hand couldn't quite make it back down. It got lost in the feel of Nate's smiling cheek in its grasp. She was lost too. His blue gaze was boring into her like never before; so intense, sparkling madly.

"I'm fine," she finally replied. She had a headache that felt as though it were swallowing her head whole. Every time she moved some part of her body objected. But she was relatively fine.

He kissed her; gently, probably mindful of the serum that only just passed through. Both of his enveloped her head and held her with fear of having to part. Then his breath stayed on her lips as they parted. His blue gaze only rose in intensity.

"I… I'm…" He was struggling with his words again. He only did that whenever he was trying to admit something personal, something heart related. Then finally he said it. "I'm glad you're not dead."

She laughed then. That was something only Nathan Ford could do. He could have the most serious look on his face that would just suck you in until you couldn't find your way out. Then he would say something that only hinted at what he wanted to say, forcing one to read between the lines in order to properly understand. It was an admission he would take to his grave. But it was admission that he cared deeply for her as well.

"I'm glad you're not dead too," she said.

He smiled in return and they shared another kiss. His arms found their way around her hips and exhaustion started pulling at her out of nowhere. Her eyes were drooping. She couldn't understand it. She had to have been out for a while in order to get those drugs out of her system, right?

"Sleep," he whispered into her ear, "I'll tell you everything you did in the morning."

She did things? She thought she had passed out in the van. That was not good. What would the others say? She felt the mastermind chuckle and pull her head into his chest. That only caused the exhaustion to pull at her more. He knew that too. His hand was slowly rubbing soft lines into her back, smoothing away the worry and the drop of fear.

"Sleep, Soph," he commanded.

And she obeyed immediately.


	43. Chapter 43

Crossover

Nathan Ford did a lot of things when he was a kid. He pulled pranks on teachers, stole seats and food at all of the ball games. He even taught one of his best friends the best way to get a girl to ask you out. He stopped one guy from mugging somebody. He even managed to break into and out of a bank just to prove they needed to update their security system.

He did a lot of crazy things as a kid. But the craziest thing was the day he became best friends with a hunter… before she became a hunter.

The day he discovered her true identity was the day he left the priesthood behind. He'd always questioned the existence of God and his work, but when Mary killed that demon right before his eyes… He knew he could never truly devote himself to somebody he had no faith in.

He didn't hesitate when she asked him to be her boys' godfather. He just wished he didn't know what happened a year after Sam was born.

Now though, now he wished he'd never gotten involved.

"Let me get this straight," he said, "You're telling me that a demon is after my soul… and is using my grifter to get it?"

"Actually Crowley says he already has your soul," Sam said, helpful as usual. "Do you mind explaining that to us?"

"Yeah Uncle Nate, how did you end up selling your soul to a crossroads demon?" Dean said, melodramatic as usual.

Nate loved the boys like they were his own blood. He did. But sometimes their nosiness needed to be stopped. They were contagious.

"Nate wouldn't sell his soul to the bad guys," Parker explained sotto voice, "Nate's Nate."

"She means he's the ultimate good guy," Hardison said.

"He used to be." Eliot was eyeing him as though he were a time bomb. He looked like pieces of a puzzle were slowly falling back into place. The hitter was on the verge of figuring it out.

Nate tried to defuse the tension. He explained that demons tended to lie in order to get what they want. Or they bend the truth to fit their needs. Crowley was probably doing something along those lines. Nathan Ford would never willingly sell his soul. He was too Catholic for that.

But he wasn't too convincing. He was distracted. It wasn't the memory of what happened, he still had nightmares about that. It wasn't even the disappointment in the boys' eyes as he tried to explain away their knowledge. It was the grifter who had his mind focused.

He could read her like a book. That didn't mean she was an easy read, but it did mean he knew her every expression and what it meant where he was concerned. This time was no different. AS he explained, he could see her own mind plugging in the pieces to a puzzle of her own. The time he stepped outside to talk to Sterling without back-up or coms, she remembered. That one time when he almost said something about demons being real and stopped himself because Sterling was within hearing range and Sophie looked at him like he was nuts. He could tell she was remembering this and that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

She knew his greatest secret.

She ruined everything moments later. "It wasn't for your son," she said, "That's why you feel so guilty. What happened to Maggie?"

Sam and Dean looked as though they had never even thought of that. They were too busy feeling betrayed by the only uncle they had who didn't partake in hunting and stuff. They had discussions sure, but they probably thought the same thing as Eliot. They thought he sold it shortly after Sam's death. Parker and Hardison were too confused for words. But Sophie, Sophie knew the answer.

"She was caught in the crossfire on one of John's hunts," he shrugged, "It was when Sterling was first taken over by Crowley. He fought the demon off as hard as he could and Maggie was hit instead of me. He can't remember the incident."

"Why was he aiming for you?" Sophie asked, pushing him to reveal more information about himself. She was always pushing him. She never once stopped to think about what his truths would do to her. She always waited until she was too late.

"Sterling was aiming for John," Nate said, "He didn't know him as anything but a murderer and he knew I had a son. He didn't know about those two over there. Crowley was aiming for me."

"Why doesn't he remember?" Dean asked. His face was worn with the scars from the battles he fought. But he had his professional face back on. He was starting to connect the dots now.

"Because that was part of the deal." The mastermind had to leave the center of the room. He couldn't stand the focus anymore. So he walked towards the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He figured he would pour Sophie one as well. She was about to find out something very important.

"Crowley offered me a deal the moment Maggie died in my arms." He took a sip and savored the taste. "He gave me ten years in exchange for my wife's health. I bargained in her memory of hunters and dying being taken away. Then I asked that Sterling would never know there was a demon inside of him."

"A symbiotic partnership," Sophie seemed to be the only one interested in speaking. Everybody else was staring at him in horror or betrayal. But the grifter seemed to sense there was something more.

"When is the ten years up?" Eliot was always full of surprises. Why he expected anything less was beyond him.

"It passed me by some time ago," he replied.

He knew the exact moment it all clicked for Sophie Devereaux. First her cheeks burned pink from embarrassment and arousal. Then her eyes blew wide with understanding and hatred. When she finally looked at him, his world was just as undone as hers was.

"It was a good-bye forever kiss," she whispered.

He felt his heart squeeze at the dismay on her face. She was breaking at the simple knowledge uncovered. He knew this was only the beginning. Soon she would break completely if she discovered the whole truth. He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't break her.

"That job on the Maltese Falcon," Eliot growled, "You sacrificed yourself because you were dying anyway. You do realize the only reason we were pissed at you for that is because you lied to us about what you were doing. If you told us we would have been fine."

"Now you're telling us you knew you were dying," Hardison added. The hacker sounded angrier than the hitter. "What the hell, man?"

"I can explain." Okay, maybe he shouldn't have said that. Sophie was giving him the deadliest glare anybody had ever seen.

"You didn't want us to know the real reason."

Parker's voice was tiny compared to the others'. She was staring at him as if he was a puzzle she had almost completely solved. When she spoke, it was with a distant voice. It was almost as though her mind was somewhere else, thinking of things far off into the future. She looked kind of sad about it.

"You didn't want to make us sad that we couldn't save you," she said.

Guilt flittered through his heart at that moment. The mastermind knew exactly what point she was making. He was being selfish and thinking of their image of him. He thought they saw him as the good guy who was given a wrong turn. At the time he refused to admit he was one of them. Now, he didn't want to disappoint them.

"But you're still here," Dean said. He looked tormented by this news. Even Sam looked as though it was just a bitter pill to swallow. Neither of them looked as though they truly understood. "You found a way to beat him."

"Or did you make another deal?" Sam was keeping his rage well-contained. That was good.

"I tried to make another deal when Sam, my Sam, got sick," Nate said, "I couldn't. Thus the whole drinking thing."

"Then you found something to live for," Hardison suggested.

"You guys are quite persistent," Nate nodded, "But for some reason when it came time to collect he couldn't."

"You bound your soul." Dean was always brighter than he looked. He was never one to admit it, but when he needed to he could be the top of his class. Sam was just a little bit more up to date on things he wasn't expecting.

"They're using Sophie as leverage against you."

"No," Nate growled, "No, they're not going to use Sophie against me."

"And what exactly do you mean by that, Nathan Ford?" Sophie was very unhappy now. Her blazing brown eyes were planning his death in a thousand and one ways.

"The only thing that would protect her would be to ship her off to a church or some Catholic Cathedral somewhere." Sam said.

Sophie gave him a look and he knew. Eliot and Hardison were also eyeing him with different looks of fear. Parker just looked too shell-shocked to do anything but stare. Sam and Dean picked up on the tension seconds later.

"You wouldn't happen to have one of those, would ya?" Dean chuckled.

"Father Paul has already agreed to take you in, Soph." He knew it wasn't going to be a good idea the moment he mentioned it.

The arguments came out seconds later. Hardison and Eliot were all for it. They immediately started packing the grifter's things and coming up with strategies for getting the grifter there safely. The hacker supplied the information while the hitter used it to help them out. Parker and Sophie, likewise, were completely against the entire idea. Parker was listing off reasons for the grifter to stay that didn't even make sense. Sophie had the best point that she needed to be with them because that was where she belonged.

Obviously the boys were winning.

"Sophie," Dean screamed, "I don't care how hard you argue. This is something you're not ready for. These demons are going to torture you before they kill you. I mean it will be years before you actually die. They're going to wear you like a suit and use you against everybody you love."

The grifter made a noise. It was a tiny squeak and then her mouth closed of its own accord. Teardrops fell from her eyes. She looked on the verge of murdering everybody and bringing them back so she could yell at them all over again. But they could all sense defeat on the horizon.

"I won't be caged like some bird," she replied.

Nate stared at her for a moment, stunned speechless for only a minute. He raced towards her and placed both hands on her shoulders. Then he brushed his forehead against hers and shook his head.

"They know I'm bound to you," he said.

What else could he do? Admitting the truth was the only thing that would save her. It was the only thing that would make her go. He had to destroy her in order to save her. He would do anything to save her.

"I don't know how and I don't know why," he said, "but I somehow bound myself to you. I can't take the chance of them figuring that out. They have to kill you to get to me and until I can figure out how to stop that from happening, I need you safe. Paul's church is the safest place for you now. He won't pressure you. He won't force you into doing anything against your will. You just have to stay under his protection."

"Aren't there rules?" She asked, "Aren't there rituals? What am I supposed to do, Nate?"

"You research how to save him."

Dean's suggestion surprised the mastermind. He didn't even think of that. He was focused on figuring out how to release the grifter before the demons discovered the truth. He didn't even think about approaching it from his side. Maybe that was the way to go.

"You read every book available and you find a way to get him out of his deal. Maybe then the two of you won't belong to Crowley."

The plan was set in motion seconds after that.


	44. Chapter 44

The Experimental Job

… Take Two.

Nate still wasn't used to it. Eliot's constant battling and bad deeds were nothing new, not anymore. He even knew how to switch the channels now so he could ignore the blood on his hitter's hands and instead watch him learn how to cook with his mother at the age of seven in their beaten down kitchen. Parker's future was so pleasant he could almost ignore her past completely, almost. He gave the boys a long list of everything and everyone who hurt her. Most of them were dead and those who weren't really wished they were. Hardison was kind of pleasant to view as far as his past went. Nana was a character and the boy's future had so many channels that Nate could flip through all of them all day and only have to adjust the hacker's path every couple of hours or so.

Sophie was the problem.

Ever since that doctor got a hold of them, put them in those giant tubes because he thought he was doing the right thing. An experiment gone wrong was his excuse for giving them their powers. Except the guy they were supposed to get rid of actually didn't have any powers. And the scientist who gave them said powers did so out of the kindness of his own heart. He thought true heroes should have powers. He didn't forsee all of the side effects. How could he? Foresight was Nate's power.

Parker finally got something she always wanted. She could read people properly now. Her powers allowed her to see crimes whenever and wherever. Her brain had been different from the mastermind's but not that much. She could just touch something and a premonition would happen. She knew where to be to prevent things from happening. She was having a blast.

Eliot got an enhanced ability to spot people's weaknesses, mental and physical. But he also got the ability to regenerate. When Nate looked into his future he could see the many generations to come. Sometimes he could look so far ahead that his head hurt for days afterward. It troubled him that his hitter was practically immortal now. It troubled Eliot too.

Hardison got a normal ability. He could change his appearance at the drop of a hat. He could become a dog whenever he wanted. He could do whatever he wanted. The first thing he did when he discovered his powers was turn into a computer. He hacked into the pentagon with no problems. He was overjoyed when he figured out it was because he was the actual code. A shapeshifter who could turn into living and nonliving things, that was pretty interesting. His future was almost as long as the hitter's.

Sophie's future was unforeseeable and that worried the mastermind. He couldn't see anything when he looked at her. He couldn't see her past either. All he could see was her. He was so relieved by that in the beginning, so happy. Now he knew that was bad news.

They thought the serum didn't work. The scientist was so saddened he offered to give her a second dosage. She refused on principal. Plus she knew Nate would kill the man if he touched her. They left him with enough evidence to lock him in a psych ward for centuries. They tried to ignore their powers at first. It was going great too. Then they started to con again.

The symptoms started the moment the grifter sat down in that bar stool. The mark was flirting with her and she flirted back. Nothing unusual there. Then the mark started to push the flirting a little further along. Normally Sophie would change it back to a slightly more professional air. She would smile that wonderful smile and start talking business and let it stand there. She didn't do that though. Instead, the grifter got just as involved in the flirting to the point where even Eliot was having a hard time keeping the mastermind at bay.

"What is she doing?" Parker asked, "She's never taken it this far before."

"Dude her com is messed up," Hardison charmed, "her blood pressure is way above normal. It's like she's practically undressing the dude. Only her endorphin levels are higher than any normal human being's. She should be dead by now, man."

"Maybe the serum got to her after all," Eliot growled. He'd already started making his way towards her. He didn't even bother to comment on the fact that Nate was right by his side. "She just had a delayed reaction. Dr. Mac was highly confused when she showed no symptoms."

Nate's head ached with the memory.

"But," Dr. Mac said, "I gave her a double dose. She was fighting me during the process. It was the only way to make sure it would take."

"Apparently that double dose gave her a delay," Nate hissed. He really wanted to kill that guy. He saw nothing but blood in the man's future. The only bright spot was sentencing him to prison. They chose the wrong one.

Nate's jealousy was so high he was amazed he could see anything besides Sophie. He practically had to pull her out of the chair just to get her away from the guy. Then he felt irrationally angry because the grifter's pupils were blown wide with arousal. Even her cheeks were pink and she was grinning far more than she would on any normal con.

The quick flashes of blood and violence reminded him Eliot was by his side. Clearly the hitter was just as upset as he was. They made a quick excuse and pulled the grifter out of the club. They didn't even stop when her complaints turned violent. They just acted as though it was normal and went to Lucille. Sophie was huffing and puffing behind them in outrage.

"What's the big idea?" She sounded like she could kill them both at any second. "I had him right where I wanted him."

"Sophie your brain is currently reading like a mass murderer's usually does," Hardison replied, "You're so angry I'm surprised you haven't even gone on a killing spree."

"You'll pay for that!" The grifter hissed.

Then she whipped her fist around as if it was normal. Nate and Eliot barely even had time to react. The hitter jumped in front of the hacker, ready to take a very impressive punch. The mastermind, he decided to stop the punch with his own hand. The moment his skin found home on Sophie's everything changed.

He was suddenly staring into the eyes of a brown-eyed monster. Some woman with Sophie's lips and eyes was shouting at him. He watched her throw pots and pans all around the kitchen. It was decked out in the latest fashion of the sixties. There was wood paneling everywhere, no washing machine, no microwave. Half of the kitchen was in disrepair. The rest of it merely looked in need of a good cleaning. But there was the sting of hot tears on his cheeks and the taste of chalk in his mouth.

"Never ask me about your father I've told you a million times!" The woman slammed another pot against the wall and its handle shattered into pieces. Nate felt himself curl further in and noticed the bottom of a kitchen table above his head. The brown hair in his vision was perfectly recognizable too. Sophie was simply just a smaller version and not quite grown enough to know how to tie her shoes. Her shoelaces were falling out of her shoes from being tucked in too long.

Then the image switched and he was in another world entirely. He could see his son lying on a mattress. Sam was coughing and looking way too pale. He could hear someone speaking close by, Maggie perhaps. He could feel the sting of tears on his cheeks again only this time the feelings weren't that of fear and confusion. This was nothing but pure pain.

He was reliving Sam's death again.

Then everything went black and panic started to claw through him. He could hear screaming though. And something, someone was shouting for help. He could hear others as well. Somebody was calling the grifter's name. Another one, Parker maybe, was calling his. Then he felt some weight in his arms and the voice became screechingly clear.

"Somebody kill me, please!" Sophie begged, and then she was gone.

"Sophie!" Nate nearly panicked when his eyes came back into focus. The grifter was leaning heavily against him. She was deathly pale and wouldn't wake no matter how hard he shook her. They were both on the ground. His butt was sore so they must have fallen there. He didn't register anything else though. Her chest was barely moving.

"We need to get her out of here now," Hardison yelled. He and Eliot were staring at him with twin looks of wide-eyed shock. "Her brain levels are through the roof. We've got to go to the hospital now."

"No," the mastermind instinctively knew what a bad idea that was, "Too many people. That would kill her. We need to get her as far away from people as possible. Eliot, where's your closest safe house?"

"Right on the outskirts of town," the hitter replied, "Fifteen, thirty minutes tops."

"That will work." Nate was trying to be as careful as possible as he brought the grifter into the van. "Have Parker drive. We need to get there now! I'll explain everything later! Parker, go now!"

Eliot closed the doors and started for Sophie. He was their medic for most of the simple things. He was just going to check the grifter for injuries, Nate could see that. But he could also see what it would do to the hitter and the grifter alike. So he informed them of the most important information in his life.

"Don't touch her," he said, "You'll kill her."

"You saw that?" Eliot didn't look offended. He looked terrified.

"Best case is that she doesn't have a seizure but that's only if you touch her on the hand. You were aiming for her head. You don't want to know."

The rest of the ride was done in silence.

When they arrived Nate refused to let anyone else carry her in. It wasn't because he didn't trust them. He just couldn't stop seeing all of their reactions when they accidentally touched her. Plus being near him seemed to have an effect. She was breathing easier when everybody else stayed their distance. Maybe it was because he knew what was wrong with her. The others were still panicking but he knew so he was now accepting and organized.

"What's wrong with her?" Parker bombarded him the moment he made it to the bottom of the stairs. At least she obeyed his order to stay there. Nobody seemed willing to disobey him. That was good. "Did somebody poison her?"

Nate shook his head and pushed the thief gently into a chair. He could tell the girl was exhausted. She'd paced the entire first floor while he was taking care of their grifter. Now she was a nervous bundle of energy reliving her brother's death. She needed comfort food and an explanation. She wouldn't be too happy about the explanation either.

"She's an empath," he finally said.

Eliot nodded in understanding and Hardison looked relieved. The thief was still confused. Yet she kept her mouth shut and waited for him to explain. She'd refused to drink her cup of tea for fear of what she might see. Obviously she expected him to know everything. Nate smiled at her and chugged down his tumbler of whiskey. He didn't quite have the courage to explain to Parker what was wrong. At least the hitter wasn't complaining about his drinking. He understood how serious this situation was.

"It means that she can feel everybody's emotions, Parker," Eliot clarified. He was pouring more whiskey into a cup and even dishing them out for himself and the hacker. "She knows what everybody is feeling all the time now even just sitting up in that bed."

"Is that bad?" The thief asked.

"It's not that bad," the hacker cried, "She's just got to adjust to the emotions, Parker."

"She was given a double dose, Hardison," Eliot growled. He must have sensed there was more to the story then.

"And Mac lied about his reason behind it," Nate agreed, "He gave Sophie the wrong dosage. She was the first one and he adjusted it based on her reactions. He must have realized I figured it out because he offered to do it again to give her the antidote."

"There's an antidote," Hardison cried, "You mean we can be normal again?"

"One antidote and it doesn't work," Nate sighed, "Mac will test it on himself when he makes bail. He's going to die in five minutes from his own powers imploding on themselves."

"Like he did to Sophie," Eliot's cup met an unfortunate end within his grasp. He didn't even look as the pieces fell from his healing hands. He merely grimaced and scowled.

"She was going to be this powerful anyways, Eliot," Nate sighed, "The problem is her other ability is the one that will actually kill her."

"What is it?" Now Parker sounded interested. Sometimes she knew how to set emotions aside and just be business. Something Sophie now would never fully learn how to do from her.

"She can read people when she touches them. I bet she can see every moment of their life the longer she holds on. If she can figure out how to manipulate it she can relive whatever moment she wants."

"How can you be so sure?" Eliot sounded like he had a sneaking suspicion. Hardison just looked too terrified to know the answer. Parker was all business though.

"Because I gave it to her," he shrugged. It was just a theory but Dr. Mac's timeline was playing in his head. He was sure that was the reason why he looked so panicked when her powers didn't surface. "There were too many emotions when I relived Sam's death and I kept hearing her voice begging for it to stop."

"What did you see when you touched?" Parker was always more aware of the details than she let on. She reminded him a lot of Sophie in that aspect.

"Her mother found out her father was cheating and tearing the kitchen apart," he shrugged, "I don't know how old she was. But I know Sophie has always wanted to see the moment Sam died."

"she's always felt guilty about not being there to save you," Hardison nodded, "You can tell every time she talks to Maggie about it."

"I could give her my immortality," Eliot sighed, "That would make the pain better."

"I saw that future remember?" Nate laughed, "She gains your ability to see the weaknesses which only strengthens her abilities. If she touches you she will die. If she touches any of us she will die. You saw how close she came just touching me briefly."

"Happy memories should help right?" Parker looked like she just stole Christmas. Obviously the wheels in her head were turning. "You only focused on the sad memories. A happy one should be fine."

So they hatched a plan to think of only happy moments. Nate couldn't help noticing most of their happy moments were together. There were a few odd ones but most of them were together though. He decided sharing them verbally would help the grifter further. Her problem wasn't that she was experiencing the emotions. It was the fact that she was experiencing everybody's at once on top of her own. NO normal human being could sustain that. Hers had to be worse.

"She'll be fine, Nate." Eliot slapped him on the shoulder and tried to think optimistically. Apparently Nate had a second power too. It developed only a few hours ago. He could read people's thoughts. He hated it.

Sophie was mentally screaming her head off at the moment.

"She's slowly coming into consciousness," he said. It wasn't the nicest way to explain his new ability but that didn't really matter. Parker was using her newly discovered telekinesis to float Hardison all over the room. Hardison was trying not to be too disappointed that he was the only one with just the one ability. Eliot's mind just turned off.

"You can hear thoughts," he growled, "You get the past, the present and the future?"

"We can call him Father Time!" Hardison cheered, "Maybe he'll be lucky and have the ability to travel through time too. That would be cool."

"I betcha Hardison can transport himself everywhere and anywhere," Parker sighed, "We should totally try it by pushing him off the roof! Do you think Sophie would feel his fear if we did it in the middle of the city?"

"I don't know how far her range is." Nate shrugged. It definitely couldn't hurt. The hacker really hadn't realized just what his powers were capable of. pLus he needed the distraction. He was trying to decide if he could replicate the serum to create an antidote so the grifter wouldn't have to deal. He also didn't want to admit that he didn't want to live longer than Parker. He was going to be in for a lot of surprises soon.

"I see a lot of screaming in your future, Alec Hardison." Parker winked. Then she took a sip of her tea and gasped. She placed both hands on top of her mouth and looked towards the ceiling. She shook her head at the hacker's questioning look. Then she melted into the kitchen to increase her emotional distance. Her hands were shaking she was so upset.

"Parker, what did you see?" Hardison demanded. His voice had gone up a few octaves and his eyes also moved upwards to the grifter's chambers.

The thief shook her head and refused to explain.

"Parker, I need to know what kind of danger we're about to face," Eliot growled. He sounded frustrated and looked on the verge of punching his way through buildings. In fact, Nate could see that was in his not too distant future.

Yet the thief held her tongue. She shook her head and stared at the mastermind pleadingly. Unfortunately her future was as clear as a bell to him. He saw and heard exactly what she did the moment it happened. The images were still making him sick.

"Sophie's going to die," he replied.

The hitter and hacker looked at him in alarm. They seemed confused by the casual way he said it, like he wasn't in love with her or anything. Of course, it pained him to admit it but he couldn't afford to show it. He saw how she would die. He had to keep his feelings in check and hide.

"She dies kissing Nate," Parker said.


	45. Chapter 45

First Kiss

Their first kiss was a mistake. He shouldn't have initiated it and she certainly shouldn't have returned it. If he had been thinking, if she wasn't that slightest bit drunk; it never would have happened.

Nathan Ford had whispered that mantra to himself several times throughout his relationship with Sophie Devereaux. Over the course of the ten years they knew each other before the team they had only shared a kiss twice. Once was his own doing. The second time was all her. But never had he been more afraid of his necklace than the first kiss they shared as equals.

The necklace, a tiny piece of his soul shaped in the form of half of a key, jumped towards the grifter with vigor. It had never before been so eager to unite their two souls. It was practically begging to bind itself with her necklace and announce to the world that Nathan Ford and Sophie Devereaux were soulmates, mated by a simple key on a string. He could almost picture how happy they would be.

Until the tragic end that would be hers; not his, never his.

If he hadn't been bleeding from a rebound shot, telling her good-bye would have inevitably bound them together forever. He still saw fear spark in Eliot's eyes whenever somebody got too close to his necklace. I belong to Aimee Martin was sketched upon it for any enemy to see. He wasn't even meant to be with her forever and he constantly had to worry about her safety on top of his, and vice versa Nate was sure. He couldn't risk that on Sophie. Sterling would have known her real name.

But the necklace still jerked from his pocket. The only reason it didn't succeed was the mastermind's hand being held against his wound. It cornered the necklace and the poor thing couldn't get out no matter how hard it tried. It was constantly becoming bolder with every move it made. The closer they got to Sophie, the more it would insist on going to her. It was almost too dangerous to bring on cons.

Yet it somehow understood when to act up and when not to.

Like now, for example, Nate was calmly explaining to Michael Vittori why he would be running for President of San Lorenzo and how he would win. The grifter was almost painfully close, her perfume was wafting into his senses in waves and he could feel her body heat flaring up his right leg. But the necklace refused to move. It stayed exactly where it was and refused to go anywhere else. It didn't even sway when the press conference blew up in their faces, Sophie making herself a direct target for Moreau while Vittori was too stunned for words. But it definitely did not like Michael. They were both in high agreement that Michael Vittori was a dead man should anything happen to Sophie.

Now though, the necklace was safe to display the truth.

"Cut him loose." As he said this the necklace tried to jump off of his neck and onto her shoulder. For some reason it didn't understand the chain tying it permanently around its master's neck. It still thought it could just jump off and everything would be fine.

"No," she said.

The necklace stopped its struggle immediately. It grew cold and solid against the mastermind's neck. It was starting to cause freezer burn too. Nate had to put his hand around it just to keep himself from giving the truth away. There was still the danger of Damien Moreau in the air. There was no way on Earth he was going to give that man a chance to get his hands on Sophie.

"Are you willing to take a bullet for this guy?" He said it as a joke, mostly to alleviate some of the stress in his necklace. It worked too. It was no longer a giant piece of ice in his hands.

"I don't know, maybe." He stared at her and she sputtered, "For them."

He felt his necklace grow amazingly hot at that. He couldn't comprehend its thinking. He was too busy thinking about the many ways he could strangle her before Eliot got there. The grifter would be completely at his mercy and boy did he want to shake some sense into her.

But the necklace had another idea. It lunged forward, making itself seen by the grifter for once. Her brown eyes followed its movement, her eyebrows frowning in puzzlement. Nate followed her gaze and nearly cursed.

"It does that when you're being stupid," he said.

He shouldn't have said that. He knew the moment it slipped out. Sophie was smart, smarter than most though she would never admit it. She knew how to connect the dots and she knew why his necklace would be acting that way.

At least, she was quite good at guessing the reason behind it.

"And why exactly would it care?" She asked.

Nate froze at the tone of her voice. He knew that tone, knew it with every inch of his being. He was in trouble, in more ways than one. She was going to throttle him senselessly and he couldn't even defend himself. There was purpose behind his actions but she wouldn't see that. She would only see the years wasted dancing around each other, trying to make something happen that couldn't… shouldn't.

He wouldn't let it.

"You're my… friend," he stumbled. He shouldn't have stumbled. All he had to say was a simple six letter word and he couldn't quite make it work.

Maybe because the word he meant to say was actually eight.

"I get worried when you get too invested in the con," he shrugged.

Sophie rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was gathering up some of Vittori's posters and getting ready to post them throughout. For some last minute get out and vote reminders. She wasn't even interested in hearing whatever truth there was. She just wanted to help San Lorenzo get their stupid President, a president not under the thumb of Damien Moreau.

It was the first time he had ever seen such passion in her for something that didn't truly belong to her. She was shining like a beacon for the people of San Lorenzo, preparing Michael Vittori to be the man they deserved. She was conning to make a difference and it was a sight to behold. The mastermind couldn't help but reflect on just how lucky he was to have Sophie Devereaux as a soulmate.

He was regretting those thoughts now. They had finally kissed. True, this wasn't their first. But it was a still a first. It was the first time they shared the night… and the bed. Their emotional high from the win, the con's success and Damien Moreau now behind bars and out of their lives for good was far too much for them. Add to that the several rounds of alcohol they both imbibed and a party like this was most certain to happen. Now Sophie Devereaux was about to figure out the most important thing in her life.

This was the first morning their necklaces would be united.

He was screwed.


	46. Chapter 46

Missing Scene- The San Lorenzo Job:

"Friends then," Nate smiled as he spoke, "You want a friendly drink?"

Sophie couldn't help but fake a look of dismay. Then she was smiling again and playfully hitting him with a flower.

"You're a bad influence," she said.

But she still went with him anyway.

Nate tried his hardest to find a bar they could go to that didn't involve some form of media buzz all around it. He jumped from pub to pub, with her carefully hidden in the backseat as his client for the evening, looking for a way to celebrate. Needless to say he failed miserably and they were forced to resort to plan B… or G if his statement was anything to go by.

He popped into a liquor store and purchased a few bottles of their finest vodka. Then he picked up a scotch and some red wine, Sophie's favorite because he could not because she insisted. He felt ashamed of his purchases and made another stop at the grocery store to buy some bottled water and juice cocktails. He wanted people to believe there were more than two people invited to his victory party.

"I don't understand why I had to wait in the car," Sophie complained, later… much later when it was safe to do so and they didn't have to fear being overheard.

They were in his hotel room, a suite given to him with much gratitude by San Lorenzo's newly elected president Michael Vittori. He even invited them to stay for another week until he was certain his country was properly on its feet. Nate would have accepted the offer but he had plans.

"And I don't understand why you have to attend your own funeral," Nate shrugged, "I guess there are some things in this world we're never meant to accept."

She was unimpressed.

"I would have been fine," she said, "It's not like I haven't successfully visited my own funeral without anyone noticing before."

"I noticed!" He said.

She smiled at him and gave him that flirty little wink she knew held his attention. "So far as you know, darling," she said.

Darling. Not even an hour into their newly established relationship status and she was calling him darling. If he wasn't already confused by where this thing between them was going, he was now. Of course, he wasn't exactly clear either.

"What do you think the others are doing right now?" Ah, she was reading his thoughts again.

"Probably doing something illegal in a country we just liberated from a paid for dictator," he sighed. Then he gave the question more thought and divulged her fantasy. "Parker's probably looking for some of Moreau's golden bars."

"Not probably," she said, "definitely."

"Hardison's shopping and purchasing his souvenirs," he surmised.

"And Eliot's catching up with his old friend, General Flores," she nodded. She somehow managed to open the bottle of red while he was occupied. She was wearing a nasty smirk on her lips and those brown eyes of hers were twinkling. She shoved a glass in front of his face and took a hefty sip of her own. Then she decided to finish talking. "Looks like our victory party is just the two of us."

"I like those odds," he said, clinking their glasses together like it was some nightly ritual they had.

They lapsed into silence after that. Both were sipping away at their glasses, lost in thought. His eyes kept falling towards her for a reason he couldn't quite understand. She was smiling, her eyes twinkling. That was no more than usual for the grifter who broke hearts every day. Yet he couldn't stop staring at her.

"Where did you get the idea?" She asked.

He frowned in confusion. He was probably missing a very important part of the conversation during his train of thought. He was too busy focusing on her and not busy enough listening. And he was supposed to be her friend.

She rolled her eyes, naturally reading his expression correctly. Then she gently placed her glass on the table, grabbed his chin and forced those brown eyes of hers to look directly into his.

"Where did you get the idea to fake my death?" She clarified, her tone rather flat and even.

He thought about it for a minute. He knew exactly where he got the idea from. He just wasn't quite sure how she would react to the information. Would it be a positive reaction? Or would he once again stick his foot in his mouth and ruin the evening for the both of them? Being a coward was too much work at the moment. He was going to simplify things and stick with the truth. She would be able to handle it. And if not he had a brand new batch of booze to look through.

"You said you were willing to take a bullet for him," he shrugged, "I figured it couldn't hurt to make sure that bullet wasn't real."

She smiled cheekily again as if he just gave the very answer she thought he would. She released his chin and picked up her glass. She was already taking in the dregs, the bottom of the glass mocking in its lack of red liquid. So he decided to be the gentleman and poured her another glass.

The process was repeated several times after that. She would ask him a question that seemingly had no meaning at all, he would answer honestly then one of them would refill their glass as they went. Before they knew it, they were left to the single bottle of scotch. They'd spent hours just sitting there, talking and drinking. There was no logical explanation for them to be so far through all of those bottles of alcohol. Then the mastermind remembered he was an alcoholic and everything started to make sense.

"We better cut ourselves off," he said, "We've been at this all night and we've got an early flight."

"You're right," she sighed, "We'll be absolute rubbish in the morning if we don't turn in. It's time to call it a night."

He smiled at her casual phrasing and poured them each another glass. She, likewise, made no effort to move or seize the good time they were having. Exhaustion was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. He'd swear before God himself that his attention had strayed and focused onto the grifter's very tan, very perfect legs for at least the last hour of their discussion. He was even beginning to notice how tiny her skirt truly was. He could just imagine how velvety smooth those legs would feel; so soft, so inviting.

"Nate," he voice was a playful whip to his conscious. He managed to tear himself away from the feast of her skin with nothing more than a whisper of his name on her lips. Now his eyes were ensnared in her own. His mouth felt dry now, as though he'd been traveling through the desert for days. He picked up his glass and took a sip. The scotch was useless compared to the grifter's gaze.

"Why haven't you made a move?"

The question was innocent enough. It was a thought that had been echoing through his mind for a long time now. Her voice was so angelic as she asked the question too. She was nervous, something he was feeling in his own chest as well. Her eyes, for some bizarre reason, refused to let him go. He felt an indescribable urge to get lost in those eyes, bury himself deep within their crevices and never return. He sort of hated the fact that her eyes felt like home.

"We should go to bed," he replied, a coward as always.

She shook her head this time, clearly having enough. She slapped her glass on the table and stood up in frustration. Then those brown eyes were boring holes into his head and daring him for a challenge.

"I see it, Nate," she growled, "Don't change the subject on me again. You still find me attractive, don't you?"

How could he not say yes to that?

"Then why haven't you done anything about it?" She hissed.

Her hands fell to her hips and her lips jutted out just so. She looked like a seven year old with the incoordination that comes with alcohol and the frustration of being stuck with an idiot for far too long in her posture. She'd never looked so beautiful.

"Sophie," he sighed, "I can't."

She nodded her head, the fight gone before it ever really had a chance. She picked up her bag, something he didn't even know she had, and headed for the door. Her soft heels were clicking away, marking the time he had until she was gone again and the cycle continued.

He wanted the cycle to continue. Needed it with all of his might.

"Soph," he whispered.

She turned around expectantly. Her foot was even tapping away, ready for the excuse that was sure to come her way. It didn't come. But everything she expected never did where he was concerned. That's how he kept her coming back.

He kissed her first. At least, he thought he did. At some point during the twenty-three seconds of silence and huffing he made his way to the door. He blocked all forms of escape like one would in a romantic movie. His hands were on both sides of her hip, keeping her locked against the only escape in the entire hotel room. Then their eyes locked.

His heart stopped at the desperate hope in her eyes. She looked so young, so innocent. He'd never wanted to pull her into his arms and refuse to let go more than that moment. His left hand found its way to her cheek of its own accord. His thumb started rubbing the soft skin of her cheek and he enjoyed the way her eyes half-closed in bliss at the contact. He could feel his breath catch at the soft sigh of content that escaped her mouth. Her mouth, with lips so inviting, held his attention immediately.

Now they were making out, eating each other's faces in a battle tennish-twelve years in the making. His stomach soared with every kiss she gave him and he fought back with vigor. At some point her hands found their way into his shirt. He countered by taking off her shirt. She came back with a move of her own that made his belt disappear into thin air. The next thing he knew they were on top of the mattress their bodies naked and pressing into each other almost perfectly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked. He was stunned he was the one to ask it. Usually she was the one ahead of the game when it came to their relationship thingy.

She smiled up at him. Her hands were playing with his chest and she was giggling madly. Her right hand found its way to his cheek and slowly his head lowered down. Then she whispered two syllables into his ear, a name he'd never thought he'd ever hear. She allowed him to break free of her hold and smiled wider at the shocked look that was most definitely on his face.

The rest was history.


	47. Chapter 47

Nathan Ford:

Nathan Ford; how could two simple words be used to describe such an unusual person?

That name had meant so much to her before everything began. Her entire world was changed the moment Nathan Ford stepped into her life. Now her world was threatening to come undone by that same wonderful name.

_Kill Nathan Ford._

The voices were whispering that to her once again. Lately that seemed to be the only thing they could do. They were tell her to kill her beloved mastermind and then give her many examples of how to do it. At first, the whispers didn't stick around that much. They were just random moments that happened only when she tried to remember her death. Then they started to get more frequent. It was as though the voices were on a deadline and her stubbornness was now an issue. They were whispering to her whenever they could, whispering thoughts of Nate's demise every chance they got.

_Kill him now_, they said, _He's sleeping. He won't even feel it. Just cover his mouth and nose. It will be completely painless._

Tonight they were more active than usual. The grifter couldn't even ignore them properly. Plus, this was the second night in a row in which she couldn't sleep because of their noise. She rolled over and placed the pillow over her own head. She wanted to drown them out. It hurt too much to even listen to their morbid plans. But she was starting to sway. She could feel her thoughts turning towards ending her own suffering by killing him. The pain of those thoughts brought tears to her eyes every time. Nate would constantly find her sleeping on the couch in the morning because she couldn't trust herself in his bed anymore.

_He's not who he says he is_, they said, _He's been lying to you this entire time. He's just using you._

She pressed the pillow harder into her head and tried thinking of something else. Her thoughts came across the first time she ever met him. She would never admit it to anyone, barely even to herself, but Sophie Devereaux believed he was an angel fallen from Heaven the very moment he spoke to her. She was fascinated by the way he extended his hand, his blue eyes soft and trusting even though she was just a stranger. The sunlight had managed to hit him just right, bringing a halo over his head and making his smile dazzle all the brighter.

_You don't see the future. You can't. He'll only bring you misery. Your fate has been set, Sophie Devereaux. It is your destiny to kill Nathan Ford!_

She threw the pillow to the door and cringed. Tonight was another night where sleep would not be an option. So she turned towards the man the voices begged her to kill. She smiled despite their insistence.

Nathan Ford was a beautiful man when he was sleeping. The years faded away in the darkness. His face relaxed and all of the weight he carried with him during the day just fell off. His lip pouted out like that of a boy on his first day of school, not getting his shoelaces just right despite giving them his full attention. His hand was always outstretched towards her now. It had been since the first night she returned from the dead. Before, he hid away his feelings for her by turning away from her when sleep came. Now he couldn't handle not touching her even during the daylight. It made her heart soar despite the vicious taunts.

_You can do it, you know. You can kill him. He'd let you. He'd never fight you. All you have to do is ask and he's yours. Just smother him with your pillow._

She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Her stamina was fading. She knew it. Every time the voices spoke she felt herself pulled towards obeying their will. She could feel her mind splitting into pieces trying to remain unmoved by their pleas. But she wasn't unmoved. Her own hand betrayed her and shot out towards the mastermind.

_All it would take is a soft touch. There would be no heat. Just touch his chest and will his heart to slow._

She obeyed the whim. Her hand found home over his heart, but she didn't will it to stop. No she begged it to continue with all of its might. Tears stung the back of her eyes at the way Nate was still breathing. He had no idea just how close he was to death, how easy it would be just to end him with a simple snap of her fingers. She could feel his pulse weaken and pulled away.

_Do it now before he wakes. He'll scream if you don't. He's too dangerous. You can't handle him unless he's sleeping. _

Her hand fell to his cheek. Her thumb traced every piece of stubble upon it. Her eyes couldn't get enough of how alive he was. Then her lips itched with yearning. She gently found herself bending down and placing her lips upon his. She could taste the bitter remains of alcohol upon them. Yet the one kiss was not enough. She planted another on his chin. Then another fell on his cheek. She was slowly making her way to his chest and back again, a pattern she'd taken so many times before and could never memorize no matter how many times she tried.

"Sophie," he mumbled still locked in a slumber that felt heavy even to her.

She returned to his delectable lips. She'd always wondered what it would be like to wake up with him at her side. Now that she knew she couldn't get enough of it. She got to see a piece of him she believed dead long ago. The honest man he was before Sam died still existed. She saw it in the way he woke up every morning, ready to right another wrong in the world.

How could she end such a beautiful soul?

A hand fell on her neck just as her lips reconnected with the mastermind's. A tiny pressure slowly sucked away on her bottom lip. Fingers started fiddling in her hair and it was becoming much too much. She pulled away breathless. Blue eyes filled her vision seconds later.

"Sophie." He said nothing else. Just her name. The two syllables had never before sounded so wonderful to her ears. His hand was now cupping her cheek and his thumb was rubbing along her neck the way it always did when he was worried about her. Even his eyebrows were knotted and twisted in a frown of concentration. His eyes were questioning this late night make-out session and all she could do was shrug in response.

A sudden impulse came upon her. Her heart was swelling with fear and pain. She looked down upon the man her heart belonged and knew she could never kill him. He would have to beg her and she still would try to talk him out of it. She suddenly felt like she could lose him at any minute. Her heart ached with the very idea of never seeing those blue eyes of his again. Nathan Ford had done the impossible. He'd stolen her heart and she didn't even want it back.

"I love you" slipped out of her mouth before she knew it would.

He stared at her for a moment, his blue eyes calculating the value of her words. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. She knew he did, more than she could ever trust herself. He was just trying to figure out what brought this on. She didn't want to see him come to the wrong conclusion so she turned away. She picked up her wretched pillow and focused on the closet door.

Then she allowed the tears to finally fall.

She felt him move above her. His arms found their way around her body, his right hand forcing her to look at him. He was wiping away her tears and smiling down at her. She knew it was an act meant for comfort. She could read the worry in his eyes. That worry had been there the moment she announced she was back. He couldn't take his eyes away from her for fear of what would happen if he did. He was always passing out from exhaustion instead of the alcohol, his arms wrapped protectively around her. He knew she hadn't told the truth when she said she didn't remember anything about being dead.

Yet he still held her tighter and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. He was allowing her to continue the façade. He didn't even mention the fact that she was hiding the voices from him. He knew she would tell him if and when she was ready. He knew her too well in her opinion. Now he was holding her with every intention of never letting go. The voices were right.

She would be the death of him.

Blue eyes connected with hers and a new understanding was taking route. His lips found their way around her body before returning to her face. Then their foreheads were touching and their eyes connected. He gave her a chaste kiss and whispered, "I love you too."

She kissed him back and didn't stop. The voices could whisper all they wanted but he was her reason for resisting. They were going to have to find someone else to do the job. She would never bend to their will. She knew it the very moment his arms wrapped around her. But she couldn't stop the fear in the pit of her stomach at their next argument.

_End it now before he kills us all._


	48. Chapter 48

Fantasy:

She was screaming again. For the past three hours she had been screaming on and off and there was nothing he could do about it. Sophie was being tortured for information and he was stuck in a room, screaming for her release.

It was a con gone wrong. It always was. Only he wasn't the only one taken by the bad guys. No, this time he was joined by the one thing in the world he cared about most. They dragged the grifter into the room with him and smiled at his reaction. He'd never wanted to kill anyone over something so small before in his life. They broke the skin on her cheek.

He'd never hit so many men in his life. Every punch he threw didn't do a thing to alleviate his fears. He could only punch and distract them as much as possible. He wouldn't let them lay another hand on Sophie Devereaux. It wasn't their right.

He couldn't remember anything that happened after that. He just woke up into blackness, his head on Sophie's lap. The grifter was combing her fingers through his hair and whispering sweet nothings to him. He could tell simply by the silver ring of her voice that she was scared, worried about him. He put her fears to rest and promised her the world, their freedom.

He didn't mean it when he promised his freedom. His plan only involved on getting her out. He just knew she wouldn't accept anything less than both of their lives out of danger. She probably knew he lied. Oh well, it was too late now.

They grabbed her not even a day after their capture. They pulled her out of the room, screaming and kicking. They told him of the torture she would experience.

"Tell us who hired you and we'll let her go," they lied, "Refuse to speak and hear her screams for days to come."

"No one hired us," he yelled, "Please just let her go. You can do whatever you want to me."

The man smiled crookedly towards him. He pulled out a syringe the mastermind hadn't noticed before. He stuck it into him and laughed at the agony it could cause.

"You'll give us what we want," he said, "Soon you will wish we killed you."

Then he slammed the door closed. Sophie was gone, taken prisoner by them. Nate was alone.

The screaming started exactly five hundred fifty-two seconds later. His mind was ablaze with her screams. He tried to burst through the door to her rescue but it was a metal door, a door meant to keep you from getting out. So he screamed at the top of his lungs and begged them to take him instead. He knocked on the door, rapped on it. He threw himself into it, begging for mercy.

But none came.

She was still up there, screaming, even now. Only his vast knowledge of torture techniques told him what could be going on. Each scream was different, louder than the last. He could see the way they would start with her fingers, her soft gentle fingers. Then they would move up to breaking the ankles and wrists. One scream made him dead positive they had dislocated her shoulder. Every time her soft moans would begin he would hear some pounding until the screams were reborn.

He'd never been so sick in his life, so scared. Even when Sam was sick, this wasn't on the menu. He never screamed. He only cried. Even when he was too weak to absorb his own food, he never sounded as weak as Sophie did now.

It was almost too painful to bear.

Then somebody made a mistake. They had to have. He heard a footstep outside. That meant somebody was left behind. Maybe that meant they were about to stop torturing Sophie. Maybe they were just waiting for him to give an answer he didn't have. He could work with that. He'd do anything to stop her screaming.

But he didn't have anything useful. The others would be killed when the guards realized this. Their entire operation would be in trouble. No, it was better this way. Then Sophie screamed again, this one long and loud. He realized he would do anything to end her suffering no matter the end result.

He opened his mouth to speak. He was ready. He already had the first three sentences of the lie half-formed. He could do this. He could sell out his team to save the grifter. He could deal with their punishment and disappointment. He could deal with their blood on his hands as long as Sophie didn't have to suffer any longer.

Except he couldn't and that was why he couldn't get his tongue to work.

The screaming suddenly stopped. He thought that would be a good thing but it wasn't. He could hear soft whimpering. They were probably real close, just to make sure he could hear everything. She sounded so weak, so helpless. It made his heart blaze with hatred again. He started banging on the door, planning their deaths one by one. He wouldn't stand for this. They weren't going to touch her anymore!

He slipped on something wet and fell to the floor. He stumbled over rocks, dead mice and whatever slop it was he slipped in to begin with. He rolled towards the back because apparently the floor was sloping. Bad foundations often did that to abandoned buildings. It was usually why they were abandoned. Gangs loved to risk their lives making their torture chambers out of them. So, on he rolled until his face slammed into the dirt.

He felt the coldness of the night piercing through his thin clothes. He'd forgotten they were taken while out to dinner. The day had been so hot that he only brought the jacket for her, in case she got cold. Her tiny dress was probably tattered beyond repair now. Her olive skin broken into a million pieces with no hope of repair. He could almost picture her calling to him, begging for an end he couldn't quite give her because she loved them too.

He lifted his head slowly and winced in pain. He reopened the crack to his head. Blood was pouring out of him in waves. For a moment it was her blood, leaking from more than just her head. Then his blue eyes adjusted and something white caught his eye.

It was the syringe. It was broken, probably from him rolling on top of it. The needle caught the moonlight just so. It looked serene in the darkness, like it belonged with the creatures of this world. An idea came almost immediately. The thought curled in the mastermind's head like a flickering flame, growing brighter and brighter each second.

They drugged him. They had to in order for the syringe to make sense. The guy pumped it into his arm. Did they even really take Sophie?

He listened in case he was right. He wanted to be right. He wanted to hear the grifter's calming voice explaining that everything's okay. That she was right there with him and there was no need to panic. But she wasn't there. And the screaming had finally stopped.

This was a hallucination, a fantasy his mind cooked up for the current situation. They spurred it on pretty well. They grabbed Sophie roughly and pulled her out while he tried to fight them off. They jabbed him while he was too focused on the grifter to truly think properly. It couldn't be anything else.

You can't con a con.

He could hear it now. Music was playing softly in the background, pitched just low enough where his drug-induced mind would think of it as screaming. It sounded like violins. Somebody was laughing. They were probably watching a football game. They weren't paying attention to him. That had to mean they weren't paying attention to Sophie. The one guard he had outside the door was paying more attention to the laughing than to him. He was too used to the sounds of howls and screams.

_Well, at least we know how they tortured their victims now._

Suddenly the laughing stopped. The music was still playing but all other noise seemed to cease. He could just make out the distant sounds of a commotion brewing. He might have been hallucinating it, but it sounded like Eliot was making an appearance. He just hoped they would rescue Sophie first. He needed her to prove everything was real. He always did.

The door opened and for a moment he saw her again. For a moment she was lying limp in Eliot's arms and he felt his whole world slide to the side. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to lose his mind. But he had to focus. He had to look beyond the shooting pain and the false images. He had to be sure before he reacted.

A cold hand on his face answered his question immediately.

"I'm alright," she said. Her face was in front of his and her eyes were bloodshot saucers. He wanted to hold her tight and never let go. It wasn't fair that she looked so well, so whole. But that patch of dried blood on her cheek set his veins on fire again.

"They drugged me," he informed her. He knew the hitter would be listening but he needed Sophie to verify everything for him. She was the only image he could trust at the moment. "I can't tell what's real and what's fake."

Her eyes knew what to do immediately. Her right hand collided with his in a whirlwind of pain. Then it returned for a gentle caress and her warm breath on his lips. She was keeping his focus beautifully.

"Focus on the pain," she said, "I'll give you the rest."

"Just like Amherst," he smiled, "You were wearing this blue dress…"

"You jumped in front of bullet for me," she nodded her bright dazzling smile filling the room with light, "I never really understood why you did that."

"Talk later," Eliot growled. Well, he sounded normal. "The drug they gave him is gonna kill him. I've got the antidote at the bar. Get a move on."

Nate just rolled his eyes. If he wanted to die, he could. Sophie was in his arms, guiding him home. Parker was darting back worried looks. Even Hardison was doing his best to pretend nothing was happening. Eliot was grumpy as usual. What else could he look forward to in life?

Of course, there was that beautiful woman in his arms.


	49. Chapter 49

McRory's Bar:

McRory's Bar had laid witness to many horrible things. Before it belonged to the thieves, it was the mob's. It was used to bullets hammering through it. Drugs were its favorite thing to see once upon a time. It didn't even blink an eye when the police moved in and took away its owners without any thoughts about its feelings.

Then McRory walked in and the bar knew it found its soulmate. The man was accompanied by a woman with bright red hair, big as a barrel pregnant. She shouldn't have been anywhere near the bar. The toxic fumes of the alcohol alone could be bad for the baby. But she was there to support her husband, who was so excited about his new business idea.

It really hurt the bar's feelings when he died. It was so nice of Cora to have the wake there though. She knew how important her father was to it. But Jimmy Ford's kid came back and saved it. He was always a customer and he convinced his thieves to save it.

Nate was complicated. The bar knew that. It gleamed a few things from the conversations he had with his thieves. It knew he was lying the day he said he wasn't a thief. It was even there for him when the pretty brunette thief named Sophie turned him down. It was his guide, his only friend. It was the happiest little bar in the world when he started drinking again. It didn't understand Eliot's constant grumbling. It was very clear to the bar what was happening. Sophie was having problems figuring out who she was now and naturally Nate fell apart the moment she was gone.

It made sense that he didn't return when Sophie did. Obviously he had his own issues to work out. Then there were dirty police in the bar and a whole bunch of sexual tension. If the bar could tell Nathan Ford had a thing for Sophie Devereaux, why couldn't she? Plus that Italian kept proposing lunches that really wouldn't go anywhere because Nate wasn't exactly the cheating type.

Then there were incidents like this one. Somebody, usually Nate, would come into the bar late at night injured and slightly unconscious. Eliot, grumbling like always whether or not he was the one injured, would go get the supplies or send Parker to do it for him. Then Hardison would sit down at the table, clacking away at some device, usually whatever new device Sophie and Nate got him for a holiday or something equally mushy.

"Alright, this is probably going to hurt." The bar couldn't help but cringe every time Eliot said those words. It knew, just as Nate did, that probably hurt meant it was going to hurt a lot. Nate hissed moments later just to prove its point.

"Shh, it's alright." Sophie was cooing again. It took the bar forever to realize that was how she worried. She did it whenever somebody was in pain, physical or emotional. She usually did it to Eliot, Parker and Hardison though. Usually she would just yell at Nate for doing something stupid. Like that one time he jumped in front of a bullet meant for her as an example.

It hated it when she cooed to Nate. That always meant bad things. It was worse than the yelling and the rare occasions they shared some nasty business on the table. This was just downright cruel.

"The drug will still be in your system for a little while, Nate, but it's no longer lethal." Eliot sounded kind of upset by that fact. It wasn't that he wanted the mastermind dead, the bar knew that. It was almost as if he was reluctant for the next few hours to pass. "You may still experience some symptoms. The hallucinations aren't going to leave you alone for a good eight hours. You won't be able to tell the difference between reality and what's fake."

"I get it, Eliot." The mastermind sounded angry, which was normal, but a little tired as well. "Why don't you go ahead and get some rest. Sophie sent the others away, right?"

"You know I did." Sophie hit him in the shoulder and cracked a smile. The bar had a feeling that was the mastermind's goal to begin with. He always liked it when she smiled. The bar liked it too but don't tell Nate. That would be bad and they would no longer be friends.

Eliot rolled his eyes and grumbled something that sounded a lot like, "Get a room, idiots." Then he left out of the door without even saying good-bye to the bar. The bar didn't take it personally like usual. Eliot sounded very tired and had several shiners. He probably needed a lot of rest. Besides, the hitter would make it up in the morning with a fresh Pine-Sol bath. That was always fun.

Uh-oh, the mastermind and the grifter were left alone. That didn't always work out well for the bar. Usually they ended up tipsy and went straight upstairs but sometimes… Sometimes the bar was forced to witness unspeakable things. Most of the time it was just an unwilling witness to things he shouldn't know. Like the fact that Nate and Sophie were sneaking around behind the team's back. It definitely wasn't supposed to know that.

Thankfully the secrets were over and they were a bit more open about their relationship. But there was something new going on at the moment. The grifter was staring at the mastermind with absolute alarm. Tears were suddenly shimmering in her eyes and the mastermind didn't even seem to notice. The bar kind of hated him for that. Sophie rarely cried.

"What do you see right now?" She asked.

That was odd. The bar didn't even notice that. It was kind of preoccupied with its own thoughts. Now it was trying to see how the grifter could possibly know the mastermind was hallucinating. Maybe it was something it would learn over time. Nate seemed fine to it. It was used to his tears and sharp breaths. Maybe it was just a superpower only Sophie had. She was the one who knew him the longest if the team's conversations were anything to go by.

The mastermind gulped and suddenly grabbed onto her wrist. For some reason she allowed him to pull her into his chest. She was whispering something softly into his ear.

"I keep seeing you," Nate said.

That only served to confuse the bar more. The mastermind loved seeing Sophie. Why was it such a bad thing? But his breath was short and his temper was flaring. What was wrong with him?

"What do you see, Nate?" The grifter pressed.

"You're dead," he cried, "I'm holding you right now but all I can see is blood… your blood… everywhere. I… I don't… I can't, Soph."

"Shh, just breathe. It will pass."

The mastermind listened to her voice and did as told. He held her tight and listened. Eventually his whole body changed. His body stopped shaking and his grip on the grifter softened. The sharp edges he had only moments ago turned into curved lines that bent around the grifter. She seemed to be his rock to find steady footing upon.

"Better?" She asked.

He laughed and nodded but his grip didn't slacken. He didn't release her like usual. In fact he seemed unwilling to do such a normal task. He was taking her in and using her to pull himself back to reality.

"I don't like it," he said, "I thought they were torturing you, Soph."

"I know," she said as simple as that, "I heard you hammering on the door. They were trying to pass it off as if you were being tortured-"

"I thought about selling out the others just to make them stop," he said, "I was going to tell them everything we knew just to stop your screaming. I actually hoped they would kill you so it would all be over."

Sophie drew in a quick, sharp breath. The bar cringed. That usually meant she was about to yell. That was normal but the bar didn't like it when she yelled. It preferred it when she was happy. It preferred it when she made Nate happy too, but its opinion seemed moot to them.

"I didn't want them to hurt you anymore," he whimpered.

The grifter pulled him close and planted a big, nasty kiss on his lips. The bar couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. Great, they were going to have one of their nasty moments on top of it again. But the pair broke apart and Nate's face was carefully cradled in the grifter's hands.

"I can take care of myself," she cried. Her voice sounded watery all of a sudden. She really needed a hug. "I've done it for ages and I can still do it even now."

"But you've got me to watch your back," Nate replied, "You're not alone anymore."

"Neither are you," Sophie smiled, "One day you're going to realize it."

The bar kind of thought that was beautiful. It would have cried if it could. It was finally witnessing a touching moment between the mastermind and grifter that didn't end in an argument or nasty business. Maybe they really were growing as people. Maybe now they would finally get over themselves and get married or something equally civil. The bar wasn't new to the world of couples. It witnessed many engagements in its time. It even remembered the day Cora was born. This had to be a good omen, right?

Oh, now they were engaging in some nasty business. Maybe it spoke too soon.


	50. Chapter 50

Wildcard- AU:

Parker was crying… again. It seemed as though the eight year old could do nothing but cry lately. It was almost as if the floodgates burst open and she finally realized what kind of life she had never had before she found them. They were fine before all of these emotions got in the way. First they were conning Parker into accepting them as a family. Then they conned him into sobriety. Now, this… mess!

It was all Sophie's fault.

She was the one who encouraged the girl to embrace childhood. She took the girl to school, taught her how to dress appropriately. She even taught the kid how to lie. That was probably what unnerved Nate the most. Sophie Devereaux, the notorious European grifter, taught an eight year how to lie. And how to lie well on top of that.

Now how was he supposed to tell her no every time she asked to do something dangerous?

"May I please jump off a bridge, Nate?"

"No!"

Then she's sticking her little lips out and pouting those big blue-grey eyes and batting her lashes just so.

"Okay, but don't die."

It just wasn't fair.

But now, now this was serious!

It all started a couple of weeks ago when Nate got called in to visit Parker's school. He dragged the grifter along because it was her idea to send the lithe blonde to school in the first place. Plus, Sophie was the one who dealt with the school things. He couldn't really handle that after… well, after Sam. He didn't really understand why he was being called in by the school. Sophie only listed him as the parent/guardian. Sophie was the one who took care of her and everything.

She even listed herself as the damn nanny.

So anyway, they were called into the school. Everything was going all fine and dandy. She was doing fine in all of her classes. Her grades were top notch, the best in her class. Nate couldn't help but feel proud. He also laughed out loud when math seemed to be so easy for Parker that she skipped ahead two grades in that class alone. Sophie beamed with pride when they were told the girl had a gift for art. The grifter spent weeks, days, months, nurturing Parker's natural gift for drawing. She had a smug look on her face and her eyes crinkled happily at Parker's fantastic drawing of their family.

The picture was perfect. There was a house that actually looked like an architectured drawing of a house. Then there was little Parker with only a little less detail, and a huge smile on her face. Eliot and Hardison were off to the side, bickering like usual. Obviously that wasn't too worrying considering they were wearing big smiles and holding cake, a cutting knife, orange soda and a package of gummy frogs respectively. Nate was standing beside Parker, his hand on the top of her smiling little head. He was holding a bottle of alcohol and pouring it on the ground. Sophie was beside him smiling and waving to everyone. She was holding Parker's hand. Over everyone was their name, Nate's had Dad attached to it. But it was the grifter's title that seemed to be different. Beside her name was a giant question mark.

It turns out that was the source of their problems.

"Mr. Ford, the students were asked to draw a picture of their family today," Mrs. Grady said.

Mrs. Grady was Parker's principal. She had a face that was always in a pout, her nose looked partially chewed off. Her eyebrows were ridiculously bushy, giving one the impression of a squirrel every time you saw her. Her glasses were ten times too thick and magnified her eyes into giant brown globes. Those giant brown globes were currently sizing him up as unworthy of being a father of a bright and talented little blonde pixie.

She was obviously wrong.

"As you can see here," she said, "There seems to be some confusion on what family is to Parker."

He replied the only way he knew how, condescendingly. "I don't see the confusion."

"Mr. Ford," Grady rolled her eyes at him, "Parker has labeled your nanny with a question mark. That is a very serious problem."

"How so?" Damn, Sophie was actually taking the woman seriously. He was never going to get any peace now. The situation needed to be handled immediately or the grifter would pester him to death.

"Parker is clearly conflicted with her feelings towards Ms. Devereaux," Grady explained, "Thus the question mark. I notice there is no mother in her life. At least that is what her drawing suggests. Plus, Ms. Devereaux is drawn by your side Mr. Ford and you are very clearly the father figure. Eliot and Hardison arguing implies brothers or partners who are constantly influencing her thoughts. Their duties are very clear though. They are favored uncles and brothers all in one go. Mr. Ford is there any possible Mrs. Ford in the future that Parker might look up to."

"She's met Maggie," Nate shrugged. What else could he do? Sophie was looking at him like she would answer truthfully if he didn't. "Maggie's my ex-wife. Parker called her cool and told me point blank that I really screwed that one up."

"Then she demanded to know when was the next time we get to see her," Sophie agreed, "but she didn't draw Maggie. That's strange."

"Oh!" That was Mrs. Ellsworth, Parker's teacher. She was always super cheery and in a happy mood. Parker hated her for it. The woman was constantly fretting with Parker. Nate had a theory it was because the woman was constantly demanding to know about her home life. Sophie suggested it was because she was the same age as him and single, whatever.

"The assignment was to draw immediate family," she said, "Parker asked me if immediate family including Daddy's ex-wife who she described as an aunt. I told her no and she nodded her head and drew this. Apparently Hardison and Eliot are her big brothers. They told her so she said."

Well that explained that.

"So this entire meeting is about my personal life and my daughter's relationship with our… nanny." Yep, he still hated the way that sounded. Sophie wasn't Parker's nanny. If anything, Sophie was the real parent. She took care of Parker and did everything but feed her. She was the one Parker allowed to assist during bath time. She was also the only one allowed to tuck her in at night. The little frog would crawl out of bed and find her way into Nate's every night, but only Sophie was allowed to tuck her in.

Sophie wasn't the nanny. If anything, he was.

"This is a meeting about the stability of your daughter's home," Mrs. Grady said, "This confusion about Ms. Devereaux's true status is very unsettling. She is very clearly hiding something and refusing to allow those feelings to bloom and grow."

"It's the building blocks to a bigger problem down the road," Ellsworth chimed in, "She could have serious identity issues and…"

Nate stopped listening after that. Parker wasn't going to have identity issues because she couldn't quite figure out who the grifter was supposed to be. The girl was an orphan. They always had identity issues. It wasn't anything about their parents' failures either. Orphans usually can't understand why their birth parents abandoned them, if they even abandoned them. Your history is pretty much wiped clean. Parker didn't seem to want that history though.

The girl was far more interested in her family's history. She wanted to know if Sophie really was British. She wanted to know what it meant to Nate to be Irish. She even asked Hardison once if it would be okay to share his heritage with her or if she would have to make up her own. If she wanted answers about her birth parents, they had a hacker to find them for her. She knew she was adopted and didn't care. She liked the people she found. She wasn't going to have identity issues down the road. They would be there to give her an identity she could be proud of.

"Are you kidding me?"

That tone definitely brought the mastermind back to the conversation. Whatever Mrs. Ellsworth said pissed Sophie off. Her brown eyes were blazing black and she looked on the verge of killing the woman. It was enough to make Parker cringe into a little corner on her stool too.

"You think Parker's home life has something to do with her social skills!" Sophie was shrieking now. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the conversation. "Parker does not have bad social skills! I know, I take her to the park all the time. That girl does not have poor social skills!"

Parker was making herself very small. Nate almost forgot she was present for the meeting. Why the stupid people decided putting a seven year old through this torture was beyond him. The girl was obviously frightened by what her teacher and principal were saying. Her big blue grey eyes were staring at him, pleading with him to make it all stop. Then Mrs. Grady dared to attack Sophie.

"She tried to stab Frank Jacobs for commenting on her picture today," she said, "Clearly the girl needs some serious attention she isn't getting at home."

"Sophie's awesome!" Parker shouted. Great, now she was standing on top of the chair and jumping up and down. She knew that wasn't what you were supposed to do. She was just doing it because they were attacking her favorite grifter. "Tara would let me eat tons of sugar and never made me go to bed. She wouldn't read me stories either!"

Mrs. Grady wouldn't understand what the tiny thing meant. Sophie needed a break after the first few months. She wasn't used to being needed so much and she certainly didn't know who she was anymore. She sent Tara mostly for Parker's sake. She knew the other grifter wouldn't be the motherly type. But Parker needed proof that her view of the world was skewed and somebody whose view was almost as skewed seemed to do the trick.

Tara's presence started off as nothing but a shunning of Parker's trust. She hated the woman and battled her every moment of the day. She actually refused to eat until Sophie returned. Nate had to call the brunette just to convince Parker that Sophie was coming back, she just needed time. Then the friendship started and all hell broke loose. They were still dealing with the fallout.

Sophie returned and Parker became a different person. She was constantly obedient. She didn't even raise her voice in agony of anything. At least, that was the report he got from Eliot and Hardison during his stint in prison. Thank goodness Mrs. Grady didn't know about that one.

"Clearly the girl is confused," Ms. Ellsworth said, "She can't even remember the name of her nanny. I've recommended for Parker to take remedial classes to help improve her social skills!"

"Remedial classes!" Sophie sounded just as outraged as Nate felt. Remedial classes. Their girl didn't need to be in remedial classes. "Just because she can't stand all of the snot-nosed brats in her class."

"Now, Ms. Devereaux that is really out of line," Mrs. Grady said, "Mr. Ford please tell your nanny to apologize."

Like that was going to happen.

"I will not apologize," Sophie snarled. Parker suddenly appeared by her side and the child was clinging to her to show her support. She only stopped when Nate pulled her towards him. Sophie looked like she needed her arms to deliver a blow. He was not going to deal with the tears should she accidentally get Parker in the crossfire. "It seems to me Mrs. Grady that you do not know how to properly run your school. Clearly Parker will be floundering here. We'll take her somewhere else, somewhere that knows how to treat a child of her intelligence and charm."

Then she swung herself around and held out her hand. Parker took it without a second thought. Then she guiltily looked towards Nate for permission to go as the grifter started to go. Nate gave her a wink and smiled in pride of his girls. A tiny cough interrupted his thoughts.

"Clearly your nanny is also having some confusion in her part of Parker's life," Grady said, "Mr. Ford, please understand that this is not to punish the girl. We only want her to excel-"

"You heard Sophie," Nate replied. He really loved putting people in their place after Sophie finished them off. "Parker will not be attending this school any longer."

"But Mr. Ford," Ms. Ellsworth actually sounded heartbroken. Oh well.

"But nothing," he hissed. He even made certain to show just what he thought about them with the next words he spoke. "If you can't see Parker's potential, then you are merely wasting our time. I'll take her somewhere more appropriate to her needs. Clearly your academics are not enough."

He could hear them both sputtering away as he left the office. He wanted to laugh but felt it inappropriate. Parker was going to think she was in trouble. That reminded him.

%%%%

Sophie was still fuming during their long car ride home. Parker was sitting solemnly in the backseat, not saying a word. Even when she entered the apartment she ignored Eliot and his freshly baked brownies. She just sat down on the couch and waited for the news to be spread. She didn't even look away from the six television screens that held footage of her school principal and teacher. Sophie noticed this and immediately the fire began to burn again.

"They said she was antisocial right in front of the girl's face!" she growled, "I ought to go back and give them a proper piece of my mind. I don't care who you are, you do not tell a child they are defective right in front of their face! That's just rude!"

"But I'm not defective," Parker frowned.

It was the first time she spoke since defending Sophie. She was staring at the mastermind with her big blue-grey eyes again. She was looking for reassurance. And proof that she finally belonged.

"Of course you're not," Sophie even rolled her eyes at the question. She acted as if it was completely insane for anybody to believe the precious little blonde could be anything but perfect. Then she ruffled her hair and tickled her for good measure. Eliot rolled his eyes and Hardison smiled. Nate ignored them both and tried to place the emotions in his chest.

"I told you they were too posh for my liking, Nate."

No, she didn't. She did her research and even bought Hardison for a few weeks to declare that school the best for Parker. She interviewed them rigorously before even considering them in the top three. She was right. They had the best scores in the city. But they didn't know what kind of a treasure Parker was. If they had they wouldn't have called her defective.

"I've got a list of Dean's you can talk to about Parker's education," Hardison said. He even pushed a few buttons and displayed their identifications on the screens. Parker giggled and clapped in amazement.

"I don't understand how a little confusion on the influences in her life can cause social disorders," Sophie growled, "What kind of school were they running? Parker's social anxiety has nothing to do with how she perceives me."

"And when they said you weren't her mother and didn't have a vote… ooh," Hardison was beside himself joy, "I totally thought you were gonna cuff her on the head."

"I wasn't in on coms like geekboy over there," Eliot replied, "But I wish I could have seen the look on Ms. Ellsworth's face when you…"

"Are you my mommy?"

Parker's tiny voice stopped the hitter in his tracks. In fact, it stopped everyone. All eyes turned towards her and she flinched at the attention. But she was standing her ground just like Sophie taught her. The little seven year old kept her chin raised and her eyes on her mark. Her mark on the other hand was a deer caught in the headlights and the grifter didn't look like she'd be moving anytime soon.

"What?" She finally asked.

This time Parker's confidence seemed to shatter under the pressure. She averted her eyes and stared at the preppy school skirt she had to wear every day. Nate couldn't help but recall that Sophie said it would be the first to go during her rant. But Parker said she wanted to keep the shoes and the grifter agreed immediately and said the headband could stay too. Her eyes twinkled when she noticed the tiny blonde perk up in the backseat.

"Are you my mommy?" She asked to the floor.

Nobody moved to answer her question. The grifter should have had something to say but she was stunned speechless. The mastermind could just make out tiny tears developing in her eyes. She looked so unsettled by Parker's question she couldn't move at all. She was barely breathing. Hardison and Eliot were just as speechless. Their eyes were darting between the two girls in horror of what the answer could be.

"Do you want her to be?"

Nate knew he was dead the moment those words slipped out. Parker's hopeful eyes flew to his and joy and confusion flittered across her face. Eliot and Hardison stared at him wide-eyed. They were frightened the grifter would kill him too. At least Sophie's brown eyes were no longer staring at Parker. Now they were glued to him in search of an answer. He was going to give her the best one he had.

"If you want her to be your mother, Parker, all you have to do is say the word." He wasn't going to tell her that she could have whatever she wanted. He didn't think that was right. That rule didn't just apply to her either.

"What?" Now Sophie found her voice. The grifter still stood in the middle of the apartment. Her dark eyes were still boring into his. But her hand had found its way to her mouth and the other found its way to her hip.

"Do you want her to be your mommy, Parker?"

The little girl's face had never appeared brighter. She was beaming with light the very moment she smiled. Her blue-grey eyes sparkled and she was vibrating with energy. Her tiny teeth were actually visible for once and she had Hardison scared for his life the way she was bouncing on the couch. She catapulted off the furniture, making the mastermind's heart stop for a moment. Then she barreled into his legs and hugged him tight.

"Yes, please," she said sounding so confident and sure of everything in the world.

"No!" Sophie screamed. She sounded so upset. The mastermind could almost detect the strangest hint of panic glistening in her eyes. She threw her arms down and shook her head. Then she moved towards Parker in a dead panic. Her hands latched onto the tiny girl and her head continued to shake.

"That's not how it works, Parker. Nate has no right to say that it does."

The mastermind didn't even have to look at the boys to get his message across. Eliot and Hardison were already coming up with excuses to get the little thief out of there as quickly as possible. They tried tugging Parker away from the grifter's grasp and failed miserably. She looked more than willing to kill them if they so much as suggested a separation at the moment. So Hardison grinned and Eliot looked to the mastermind for an answer.

"Let her stay," he said.

Sophie waited until the boys were gone before she started the argument. Even then she kept it as civil as possible. Her brown eyes were locked on the blond child and she wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize her view of an appropriate relationship. Of course, appropriate was just a matter of opinion anyway.

"Nate," she began.

"She needs a mother, Sophie," he growled. He was so sick of this dance. Ever since Parker came into their lives, their relationship changed completely. The feelings increased without them even noticing. It was about time they acknowledged that the girl had a point. "She chose you."

"She didn't choose any of us!" She shot a quick look in the kid's direction and her tone lowered dramatically. "Archie just handed her off."

Nate remembered the day perfectly. Sophie's old friend, a man who was almost old enough to be her father, just showed up out of the blue. He'd gotten into a mess he couldn't get himself out of. He somehow managed to get Parker into trouble as well. The then four year old could already out steal some of the best. She even stole Nate's wallet just to prove how good she was. She was more than eager to please.

"I'm leaving her to you, Soph," Archie cried. He pushed the girl into the grifter's arms and refused to look at her. He flinched when she begged him not to go. "The heat's too high right now. I'll come back for her when I can. Please, you're the best grifter I know. She's my legacy. Teach her everything you know. I know you'll do what's best for her."

Sophie didn't even argue with the man. Nate did. He insisted that the girl needed to be raised by parents who could give her everything she asked for and more. Thieves were the absolute worst people in the world to raise her. Sophie put her hand on his shoulder and picked the precious angel up. She nodded her head and promised to never let her go.

"We're even," she said.

Now, Nate still wondered what was worth such a burden. Caring for a child was never easy. All parents said that. But since Parker came into their lives everyone had only increased in being the best. They even formed a family because of her. The mastermind was dead certain even death wouldn't stop the grifter from being there for the girl. It was how he came to this very conclusion.

"Parker, what does a mother do?" He asked, smiling all the while.

"Don't you dare pull her into this!" Sophie growled, "This is between you and me, Ford!"

Parker flinched and glared at the mastermind. She was pulling her typical _how could you anger my Sophie? _face. The girl was wrapped around the grifter's little finger, and the woman had no clue. She was currently placing her little arms on her tiny hips the exact way Sophie was. She was an almost mirror image of the woman she took to so easily.

Yet he was the one listed as her parent and guardian.

"You were the one who said I had to be the father," he said, "You told me I was the only one who knew how to take care of a kid. You said I knew what would be best for her."

"Yes and you've always hung that over my head! Parker is a child, Nate. You can't just drag her into a fight anytime you want. She doesn't need this. She needs-"

"A mother," Nate agreed, "but she's already got one. She knows it just as I do just as Hardison and Eliot do. Why can't you see that?"

"It can't be me, Nate."

"Why not?"

Parker's little voice penetrated their argument as it always did, as it always would. She was staring at the grifter, crestfallen. She was too young to understand what argument was in the grifter's head. She probably thought it was her fault, that she was the reason Sophie didn't want to be her mommy. It was just the opposite and he knew it. The grifter didn't think she deserved such a title.

Sophie pulled the girl into her side and smiled. Then she gently bumped her forefinger on Parker's nose and explained herself. "I'm not mummy material," even now Parker still giggled anytime the grifter said mommy the British way, "Mummies are supposed to take their daughters to the park to play. They're supposed to bake cookies all day and do interesting things. They're supposed to teach their little girls the difference between right and wrong. They are not supposed to break the law."

"Nate breaks the law and he's still my daddy." She had a point and Parker knew it. She was looking a little too smug and sure of herself as she stared into the grifter's brown eyes. Nate couldn't help but notice that smug look was one his father wore when he was younger. There was only one way that child could have ever learned that facial expression.

"Nate still knows the difference between right and wrong," Sophie smiled. She noticed the smile as well. "And he's teaching you how to tell the difference as well. Remember when Suzy Thomas was calling Peggy ugly?" The little girl nodded so she continued with a little wink. "Well, you knew that was wrong and what did you do?"

"I stole Suzy's lunch money and gave it to Peggy and she bought ice cream with it." Parker cheered, "But Nate said I should have told a teacher instead of taking care of it all by myself."

"Exactly," Sophie nodded, "I didn't think there was anything wrong with that. I thought you punished Suzy exactly as you were supposed to. You see, Parker, I'd be absolute rubbish at being your mother."

"But you taught me that stabbing people with forks was wrong," Parker explained, "And that boys like dresses and sometimes it's okay not to like people but it's not okay to hit them. I have to be nice to them anyway because I could want something from them in the future. And Nate says I act more like you every day and I don't want another mother! I want you."

"You've already taken up that position, Soph," Nate said, "Don't argue with her. She's just as stubborn as you."

"She gets it from you," Sophie purred automatically. Then her hands clasped against her mouth and her eyes grew fearfully wide. Her brown eyes met his and a new understanding dawned.

"She'll be confused," she said, "She won't understand."

"Parker, it's time to go upstairs," he replied.

The little blonde girl opened her mouth with every intention to argue, something she got from both of her parents apparently. Yet she managed to close her little lips and turned around to leave without any incident. She only looked back once, her gaze questioning. He knew what she was asking. He just hoped he would be able to answer it in the morning.

"We can't," Sophie said the very moment Parker was out of earshot, "She'll get confused. She'll start thinking that this means we're together. We can't be together. We've still got that bloody Latimer business to think about, Nate."

He picked that moment to kiss her. He expected her to push against him and slap him repeatedly. He was not expecting her tongue in his mouth. He definitely liked this outcome better. They'd been dancing around each other far longer than they would have had a child not been in their lives. San Lorenzo had been a close call. Parker got sick and Maggie's cell phone call was perfectly placed to ruin the moment. Now, there was nothing stopping them.

Nothing except the little girl cheering at the top of the steps.

"This means she's my mommy, right?" Parker cheered, "She's going to tuck me in and read me bedtime stories like all of the other kids' mommies?"

Sophie hid her smile in his shoulder. He couldn't. He just gave the girl a wink and pressed a finger to his lips. Then he motioned for her to come towards him. She did so, but slowly. She was still wary about being turned down for a second time.

"She'll always be your mommy," he said, "but…"

"But mummy and daddy may not always be together!" Sophie finished.

Parker grinned from ear to ear and hugged them both tightly.

"That's okay," she said, "That means twice the amount of presents on Christmas!"

How could you argue with that logic?

Now though, this was cruel.  
"I want my mommy!" Parker cried, she was clinging to his little leg and putting on a show for the ages.  
Nate wanted to kill her.  
"Parker, you don't need mommy," he tried. Of course, she refused to be swayed.  
"But he's so scary."  
Well, she was meeting his father for the very first time. They had kept the old man away from Parker the last time they met. Nate didn't want him anywhere near his little girl. That had been the only thing Sophie could agree on during that entire con. She and Parker had a week long sleep over and bashed school. Now though, now Parker was doing this simply for attention.  
"Parker, he's my dad. Of course he's scary."  
He probably shouldn't have gone with the humor there. Parker was now in his lap and burying her face into his shirt. She was causing a seen.  
"You better call that girl's mother, Nathan." His father was so helpful. "She looks like she needs a nap."  
"I don't like naps," Parker growled. Now she was eyeing his father like a piece of meat. Nate decided taking away the fork was a good idea.  
Honestly this meeting wasn't supposed to happen. Parker had been playing in her favorite booth, with Hardy, and having a fantastic time. Nate only left the bar for a few minutes to use the bathroom. He didn't even take that long. He just walked back into the bar and saw his father talking to his little thief. He'd never moved so fast in his life. He regretted it the very moment she burst into tears.  
The other patrons in the bar were starting to get annoyed. They were used to Parker's tantrums. The girl never liked Nate's orders to leave and she made a big display to show it. Those never lasted for long periods of time though. This was one for the record books.  
"Parker, stop this," he tried, "He's not going to bite or anything."  
"I want mommy!" That one was more insistent. She was an evil little brat when she wanted to be.  
As if on cue, the grifter appeared in the backdoor entrance. Her brown eyes immediately looked for the source of the sniffles. Nate could tell she was very unhappy when she realized who was in the seat across from him and her Parker. She walked right on over and scooped the little girl into her arms. Parker stopped crying immediately. She knew Sophie wouldn't put up with it.  
"Hi, mommy," Parker called, "Daddy met a stranger. He says he's my Granddaddy. Do you want to meet my Granddaddy, Mommy?"  
Oh, that was her plan.


	51. Chapter 51

The Blue Line Job

"The Stanley Cup," he murmured in his sleep.

Sophie had to laugh at that. The con was finished. The job was done. Their clients had their lives back. Yet he was still obsessing over the fact that she stole the Stanley Cup and he couldn't figure out where it was.

He was oddly predictable.

"Sophie," he cried. His arm encircled her and pulled her onto his chest in seconds flat. Then he snuggled his face into her hair and breathed her in. "you will tell me where it is eventually."

This time she didn't bother to contain her laugh. She let the giggles take her over and succumbed to their awesome power. His eyes were closed. His breathing pattern inferred actual sleep. And there was no smile on his face to imply he'd been listening. His hand only got tighter on her shoulder and he lulled off into a deeper sleep.

He was adorable when he did that. He was adorable during other activities too. She often wondered when certain annoyances, his sick humor for example, became habits she found adorable. It was kind of scary how easily everything in their lives had changed.

He found out she stole something of high value to people around the world, the Stanley Cup. Instead of looking down on her, as he used to though he would never admit it, he got interested. He asked her where it was, not when. Though she was dead certain he was trying to figure out how she did that. He wasn't interested in turning her in and returning it to its rightful place.

Of course, he also didn't know that it was going to be his birthday present.

That was probably the thing bothering him most about the theft. He didn't know why she would steal something like that. He definitely had an idea it was for a person. He just wasn't quite certain who that person was nor was he sure it was for a specific person or a buyer. AS a grifter she had to keep in touch with most of her contacts. It was too dangerous for her not to. Often times she would inform the others if she had to suddenly leave on a side-job just to keep one of her aliases intact. Of course, they always followed along just to make sure everything went smoothly.

It used to annoy her. Now it was endearing, the way Nate would drag everybody to Europe or an island of remote just to make sure nothing interfered with her plans. It annoyed the others too, in the beginning. Parker would constantly comment on how bored she was. Eliot complained because he wasn't allowed to punch anybody. Hardison was the only one who had something to do and that was because he hacked into the cameras so Nate could watch for any keen signs of bad things on their way.

Bad things never happened because she was Sophie Devereaux, but it was the thought that counted.

Now Parker and Eliot would find a way to squeeze themselves into a part of the plan and rob some bank that was wronging others while Sophie worked her contact mercilessly. Hardison watched their backs while Nate watched hers. Nobody commented on the fact that he was more than willing to pitch in whenever he could.

Nobody wanted to go there.

"It's close," he murmured softly.

There was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His fingers were absent-mindedly brushing through her hair. The wrinkles and years faded away while he was asleep. The moon even added the extra effect of forming a halo around his head. He looked beautiful in that moment. Sophie couldn't help but lean down and plant a kiss to his forehead. The mastermind allowed his smile to grow.

"I hate Vlad," he said.

Then he rolled right on over and acted as if nothing ever happened. A few soft snores were heard moments later. It was something new she actually got to experience. Before, he was always too drunk for snoring. He just passed out and she would often wonder if he was still breathing. Now? Now, he didn't drink as much. He still drank but it was lighter, easier, softer drinking. He would talk and eat before putting away his amber liquid scotch.

Now, he actually enjoyed sleeping beside her.

"Don't worry Nate," she whispered into his ear, "I remember."

Then she rolled over and allowed him to pull her into sleep with him.


	52. Chapter 52

The Boys' Night Out Job

"yes, I want to be exactly like my father. Thank you for the insight, Sophie."

He couldn't stand sitting through that Poker game any longer. Sophie's intuition was haunting him. She was wrong. He didn't want to be his father. He didn't even like his father. All of his memories of the old man were stained with the blood of somebody who decided paying wasn't an option at the moment. Then the bastard went to prison for some mobsters who didn't even care that he did it.

He was still brooding about it when Hurley showed up. Even now, when the con is done and the others made it back from their respective gigs, he was still brooding over it.

"You were right," he said, "I am like my father."

He heard the soft click of her heels before anything else hit his senses. He was so intuned to her that he was dead certain he could pick her out of a crowd in a photograph with nothing more than pure instinct guiding his eyes. He knew when she took her breath, the moment she decided on just what to say. He even knew when her perfume would flitter through his nose. He knew her.

More than he knew even himself.

"I didn't mean it the way you think," she said.

He turned towards her, his silent go ahead for continuing with what she wanted to say.

"It's just," she shrugged, "You're at a crossroads. You're like your father yet you don't want to be. You're currently able to see all of the possibilities yet you can't quite make up your mind which way you'll lean."

"I'm a little too much like my father then," he sighed.

She shook her head and dared to step closer. Now her dark brown eyes were boring into him with that worry again. That worried him, though he'd never admit it. He would often find himself staring into those black eyes and wondering if she ever stopped worrying. Secretly, he feared that would be her downfall, her fatal flaw. One day he would wake up and do something do stupid that she would end up worrying herself into an early grave.

It was why he didn't want a relationship to begin with.

Now he was afraid leaving her would only kill her sooner.

"He did have good qualities, you know."

He rolled his eyes at that. How could she possibly know his father better than him? She only met him for a small, minuscule amount of time. Then he remembered she was a grifter and had the benefit of knowing him straight down to his soul. If anybody knew his father, it would be her.

He really shouldn't find that as attractive as he did.

"He was vastly loyal to his family both blood related and non," she said pointing her finger at him knowingly, "He constantly drank himself into a stupor. You do realize you have his fatal flaw of being loyal to the point of self-destruction, right?"

She had a point. Of course, he figured out another similarity he hadn't even realized as a child.

"When my dad was here," he began, "Maggie loved me but didn't understand me."

He could the grifter was confused. She was waiting for him to explain himself though. She knew when he was trying to say something personal. She wouldn't push. She'd felt the sting of that too many times. He would have to find a way to make that up to her.

"Dad said that my mother loved him but didn't understand him," he shrugged, "That was the moment I realized I don't want to be him but I am."

"What do you mean?" She always knew when to press.

"Maggie loved me but I was still my dad's son," he said, "She didn't get why I had to chase the bad guys. She definitely doesn't get what I'm doing now. She didn't understand the drive or my reason behind it. Just like my mom never understood why my Dad had to take the fall for the mob. She just let him because she loved him."

"Just like Maggie when you lost Sam," she nodded.

He smiled at her brilliant mind. As beautiful as she was, and she was beautiful, nobody would ever truly love her until they met her mind. That was how he got ensnared. It wasn't her beauty, and she has always been breathtaking, it was her plans. Her plans would take him months to figure out. As they got to know each other more it fell to weeks. Eventually he would be able to cut it down to days and hours and minutes then seconds. But she always knew how to surprise him. Her mind was probably even sharper than his.

"I didn't get why that sucked until…" he swallowed and tried not to focus on her eyes too much. Instead he turned towards his scotch and found solace there. It was the one thing he had most in common with his father. It also explained the lack of affairs. His dad loved his mother because she didn't understand and just didn't care.

Yet he couldn't stand how his suffering hurt Maggie. That was the one trait he loved about his father, his loyalty to his mother. But that became something he couldn't stand later in life when he knew the truth. Having someone who didn't understand you by your side, didn't allow you to become better. It only kept you the same.

"You make me better," he said, "You understand me. Maggie couldn't quite ever do that."

"It's because I know you," Sophie shrugged. She didn't get it or was in denial about it. She couldn't quite figure out what he was trying to say. But she was going to do her best to get there for him anyway. She understood that he needed her to. "Maggie knew you too."

"But she didn't try to understand," Nate replied, "She only accepted. You fight with me because you can understand me. You did it even before we were friends, colleagues."

"Friends with extras," she winked.

He smiled. She got it. The smile that put on her face made everything worth it. He didn't care or know which part of him was going to win. But he knew she would be with him either way. She would understand his decision. He just hoped she liked the choice he made.

He kind of wanted to keep her around for a very long time.

Definitely long after the Leverage Team.


	53. Chapter 53

The Carnival Job

"Sophie and I are going to run a version of Roman Wedding," he said. Then he begged the grifter to not hit him as hard as usual. She missed the plea of mercy though. Her soft palm hit him like a freight train.

He often wondered why she hit him so hard. Then he would remember other incidents that involved her palm. He would know the answer and stay quiet about the pain. She enjoyed hitting him, enjoyed making him suffer. It was the only way she could truly pay him back for all of the pain he caused.

He remembered the slap on the Maltese Falcon. Her kiss had been so sweet, her lips too much for him to think clearly. All he could do was focus on the fact that he was more than likely never going to see her again. He couldn't just let her go without telling her, in some way that probably wasn't the best, that he cared about her as a little bit more than a friend. She called him out on it immediately afterward. It was such a fresh breath of air that he couldn't even focus correctly. But he definitely deserved the slap.

He definitely didn't need the one in Memphis. He understood it of course. She had to keep her cover. She was supposed to keep that mark on a string and if he thought for one minute she was on Nate's side. He still lied to himself about those nightmares. He didn't need to remember what happened to their clients, both known and unknown. She never apologized for that though. She also didn't need to. She probably knew it too.

He did deserve the knee though. He slapped her on the ass because it was something his character would do. He also felt like he had the right to now. He was getting cocky where she was concerned. It did help sell the bit though. He just should have ran it by her first. But she got her pay back and that just made him oddly happy with that. It kind of gave him some idea that she sort of liked him back and he definitely wasn't ready for that kind of thought train.

Now though. Now he definitely didn't deserve the slap. It was con related though. He was the one who came up with the idea. She just took full advantage. Now he was trying to figure out what he did to piss her off. He was coming up empty, even as she entered the room.

"Still working off the slap I see," she said. That was her way of introduction. She was even wearing a smile of pride. He actually found that very attractive.

He really shouldn't have.

"What did I do this time?" He asked.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she laughed, "I just enjoy hitting you."

"No," he shook his head, "I know you. You wouldn't hurt me intentionally unless I hurt you first. What did I do? Did I forget another anniversary?"

"Apparently," she laughed, "What's today?"

He didn't really feel like thinking so he answered her quickly. He picked the first thing that could have possibly come to mind.

"Anniversary of the day I shot you."

"It's the anniversary of the day Sam died," she replied.

He felt his cocky demeanor shift immediately. He didn't think she knew that. He thought she would just ignore his need to work this case. Instead she saw right through him and made him face the truth. He hated it when she did that.

He sort of loved it too.

"You purposely chose this job just so you could avoid it," she said, "I already told Maggie you would be stopping by after you visit his grave tonight."

"You bought me a ticket?" He asked. This was kind of intriguing. She was going to take care of him despite it.

"Just because he's dead doesn't' mean you get to break your promise to him," she growled, "You're going to drop off flowers to your little boy and I'm coming with you just to make sure of it."

Well that was that. There was no need to argue with her for that. He kind of felt guilty for doing it on purpose too.

Only kind of.


	54. Chapter 54

Dating:

Dating was almost impossible. Dating as thieves was practically non-existent. Dating when your names were Nathan Ford and Sophie Devereaux was practically cruel.

But they kept trying despite the odds stacked against them. Nate often found ways to bring her breakfast in bed even when they were far away from a kitchen or restaurant. Sophie invented reasons for them to go out as a couple and dance and eat without appearing as a couple. They even had to create their schedules around cons and the damn theatre. It was a wonder Nate even had time for his secret plans sometimes.

That was what was vexing Sophie Devereaux at the moment. Here she was, wearing a dress that would make most men drop dead at her feet and he was completely oblivious. Sometimes it amazed even her how his mind could so easily focus on such trivial things like murder. It also made him all the more attractive but she wasn't going to tell him that. Then he would use that sexy brain of his against her and she would lose the small foothold over him she had.

Well, there was that nudity thing. She still had that one but they were in the middle of a bar. He probably did it on purpose too. He knew she would get bored with the dancing and drinking and want to go home. He wasn't exactly willing to allow any distractions with his secret plans.

"I'm bored," she hummed knowing perfectly well that he would just ignore her and keep working on the sketches for those papers he kept pulling away when she tried to peak. She even tried to use her cleavage and he wasn't interested.

"Then why don't you find someone to talk to," he said completely refusing to miss a beat. He loved to torture her, the bastard.

"Because the person I want to talk to has been ignoring me all night." She was hoping that would get a reaction. It didn't. He only flipped a page and kept on drawing. "You know, most men wouldn't even dare suggest I talk to someone else. They'd be too afraid that I would run off to the most attractive man in this bar and go home with him."

"Most men don't know you and don't know that you're more interested in the men with the fattest wallet and the widest selection of art work around the world," he replied, "and I happen to be both. Therefore I have nothing to worry about, do I?"

"Most men couldn't get away with saying that," she purred seductively into his ear, "I am considered quite the catch you know."

There it was. She got a reaction. The corners of his lips tilted upwards just a bit. He was smiling with pride over what she just said. She was getting to him. Maybe he wasn't as impenetrable as he thought.

He swung his arm around her and smiled that charming smile of his.

The bastard.

"I know what you're doing, Soph, and it's not going to happen," he said, "Now isn't the time. I promise I'll tell you the moment I'm ready."

"It better be a proposal," she said, "I'd be deeply troubled if you went through all of this just to dump me. It proves you don't really know me at all."

She meant it as a joke. It was a way of showing that she was interested but trusted him enough to leave it alone. But his happy smile turned into a frown. His whole body froze for just a microsecond. Then he was back to being normal, contented Nate.

Well, that was troubling. Why would he want to break-up with her? Did she do something wrong? No, she couldn't have possibly done something wrong. It was his fault. He was the one who kept pushing her away, kept avoiding the important conversations. Maybe he was trying to save himself the pain of another loss. He always used his son and his own screw-up with Maggie as an excuse. She was really getting tired of it.

"Maybe I should dump you," he purred. He sounded hesitant almost afraid of his own boldness. "Then you could go home with a Prince or some rich guy who knows… You're a princess, Soph. You deserve… maybe not a princess. Queen! Yeah, you're definitely more of a… uh, queen. Waited on hand and foot… a queen."

Damn that man for his horrible dating skills.

"you're bloody right I deserve to be treated like a queen," she said, smiling with pride all the while. He really did know how to set her heart on fire. "That's why I'm hanging out with you when at least ten marks have turned their heads my way. You are at least smart enough to know it."

This time he looked at her. His blue eyes were twinkling with joy, taking her breath away. Then his arms encircled her and she was being pulled into his orbit. She had to bite her lip to keep from licking it and acknowledging he won.

"they're all jealous because I'm smart enough not to let a catch like you go," he said, "even if I don't always show it."

There was such honesty in his voice, such raw emotion. How could she not reward such a compliment, especially one that came from Nathan Ford? So she kissed him hard on the lips. Then she put her hand on his chest and deepened that kiss some more. He pulled away breathless as always.

"Besides," he said, "I know you're only doing this to find out what I'm up to."

And now her mind was abuzz for a completely different reason.

They were a lot alike in that aspect. Her mind could easily focus on one thing as well.

Like the fact that his belt was easily removable, for example.


	55. Chapter 55

The Girls' Night Out Job

"You can't be serious."

Tara Cole was staring at her as though she had acquired three heads. There was a tiny smirk on her face and those hazel eyes of hers definitely looked intrigued. There was only one possible reason for that look to appear on her face. She knew something she wasn't supposed to.

"What?" Sophie asked.

She took a sip of her drink and tried to act innocent. Acting innocent was bound to get her out of trouble. Plus it was a highly effective way of getting information. But Tara Cole was a professional grifter and an old friend to boot. She knew her game and could likewise read her like no one else, with the exception of only one man.

"Don't play innocent with me," Tara replied, "Those brown doe eyes of yours are nothing to me. Now spill or I will figure everything out on my own in a matter of seconds."

Sophie kindly ignored her old friend. She batted those big doe eyes of her and put up her best poker face. Tara was always one who enjoyed getting down to business. Playing this part would only frustrate her into insanity. Plus it was fun to watch her squirm.

Tara broke first, naturally.

"Ugh, I give up," she said, "Who's the guy?"

"Whom?" Sophie asked a slight upward tilt forming on her lips.

"The guy you've been screwing," Tara growled, "I want to know everything. Start with the gory details if you want. Then we'll get to the boring stuff of how you met and all that."

Sophie giggled and shook her head. Then her cheeks grew suddenly hot and her tongue parched. She was thinking about the last time she and Nate ended up in bed together. There were a few things they did that she was pretty certain Catholic Jesuits weren't allowed to do. Especially that move with the marshmallows. That was definitely considered a sin.

"Oh my God you're blushing!" Tara was agog. She looked downright astonished by the brazen way the other grifter was allowing her emotions to show. Then her hazel eyes blew wide and she understood everything. Even her face paled at the realization.

"You're in love," she said.

Sophie laughed at that one too. She shook her head and tried her hardest not to consider her friend's words too much. If she did she might learn the truth and she didn't want that. That would ruin everything.

"Oh my God!" Tara sighed, "You are in love."

"Tara, I'm fine-"

"No, I recognize that look from last time," Tara huffed, "Only this time it's actually different. You've fallen hard for this guy. You're not just screwing him!"

The volume of her voice made other patrons around the bar look their way with different shades of curiosity. Some of the men actually looked intrigued. Some of those eyes were filled with more than just lust too.

She was definitely going to have to find a new bar.

"You're so in love with him that you're…" Sophie could almost count the seconds when realization finally dawned on her companion. The blonde woman's expression went from one of complete shock to absolute anger in seconds flat. Then her expression changed to a sharp smile that even crocodiles would be jealous of.

"You're in love with Nathan Ford," she growled, her voice dripping with scorn.

It was no surprise that the other woman hated the man. The two were very similar in many ways. Sophie had actually half expected the two of them to hit it off right away and fall in love. That way she could abandon the team without feeling guilty. Sure her heart would be a mess but she wouldn't have to deal with the constant worry anymore.

That plan blew up the very moment Nate and Tara met. They hated each other with a bloody passion. The mastermind couldn't stand her because she wasn't Sophie, though he would never admit that was the cause. Tara hated Nate because they were almost completely alike, nobody likes staring in a mirror too like especially when that mirror is far more perfect and unblemished than you. She somehow became the mediator between the two and the worrying only grew to colossal sizes. How she survived and managed to sort herself out she'd never know.

But right now she was in trouble and Tara Cole had terrible plans for her.

"Of all the people you had to screw and fall for," Tara cursed, "Nathan Ford had to be it."

"He certainly has his moments," she blushed as she remembered another night of passion that had his Catholic guilt flaring for days. She was honestly surprised he didn't propose after that one. He certainly looked like he thought about it for a while.

"He's just using you and you're allowing it," Tara rolled her eyes, "This is William all over again. Except this time you don't seem to care if your feelings get hurt."

Sophie rolled her eyes at that and took a little sip of her drink. She was starting to get as bad as Nate now. She used to be able to have one drink and call it good. Now she could drink a bottle of vodka in one sitting and only feel slightly dizzy. If she ended up with liver cancer, she was blaming him.

Sadly, he'd blame himself too.

"He's not using me," she said, "I'm using him."

It was a lie. Tara knew it. She knew it. Nate even knew it. But it was the only way he would accept their thing. He wasn't ready for a relationship. He admitted it, poorly but he at least tried to do it the right way. She wouldn't admit it but she wasn't quite ready for their thing either. She liked the fact that she could wake up and fall asleep with him. She liked the fact that he was no longer trying to hide his lust when he looked at her. But she knew eventually he would stop being okay with her conning him into this. Eventually they too would end.

"You're conning him into a relationship," Tara laughed, "And he hasn't figured it out yet. I find that quite unlikely."

Sometimes having a friend in the same profession as you, really sucked.

"He knows I'm up to something," she shrugged, "He just hasn't decided how he feels about it yet."

"If he hurts you I'm killing him," she declared.

Sophie smiled because that was as close to approval as she was ever going to get from Tara Cole.

"If Eliot doesn't kill him first," she replied.

They started having fun after that. The warning had past just as the storm did. They were reminiscing and having a grand old time.

Then Parker had to ask for help.

Couldn't they have just one normal girls' night?


	56. Chapter 56

The Snow Job:

"I thought we had an agreement," she said.

He frowned in confusion. Then he turned towards her and said, "I don't remember making any deal."

"That's what we're afraid of," she said.

She acted completely unfazed by the fact that he didn't remember. If anything she was a little irked. He could tell simply by the way she gripped her coffee. She was holding it loosely, trying to pretend that everything was alright for the others. And they were buying it too. They didn't see the venom in her eyes or the way she had to breathe slowly just to keep her temper in check. They only saw that she was talking gently with them and harshly to Nate. It was such a normal thing for them to experience that they didn't even question it.

But she was too angry to see the truth. That was exactly what he wanted too. He didn't want her to know that he actually did remember the discussion. Well, it wasn't really that much of discussion exactly. It was more of being berated by a grifter with such a bizarre moral compass nobody could tell what was right and what was wrong in her mind.

She was angry. Lately she had always been angry. She actually threw away some of his beer too. She'd smashed up two bottles of fifty year old scotch and a rather unusually rare bottle of vodka. He felt his temper flare at the way she was going at his alcohol. Then he saw the fire in her eyes and felt the need to meet her challenge. He raced towards her office, Sophie hot on his heels. He found a pair of emergency shoes in the closet and immediately held them out the window.

"You wouldn't dare!" She screamed.

"You smashed a very good collection of spirits. I think it's fair."

He punctuated his words by lowering the shoes ever so slightly. She squealed and put her hands in the air.

"Alright," she said. She sounded like she was talking to some bad guy during a hostage situation. It really set his temper ablaze. "Let's talk then."

"I'm not one of your marks, Sophie," he growled, "You don't get to con me!"

"And you don't get to drink yourself to death while we're working together!"

Her voice was a whip. He knew that would happen the moment she stepped back into his life, the moment he brought her back into his life. So he took a deep breath and let the shoes go. He didn't even feel guilty when somebody yelped in pain. He actually laughed in amusement. Plus her face was priceless.

"You're going to pay for that," she said, "You're going to pay dearly for that, Nathan Ford."

"What are you going to do?" He asked, "Make me? Come on, Soph, I know all your tricks. There isn't one you can pull that I haven't already seen. Why do you think I'm the only one who can catch you?"

"You're not the only one," she said. Now she was smirking. Her arms were crossed against her chest and she was smirking. He knew that sign. Sophie Devereaux was never more dangerous than when she was smirking. Still, he had to ask.

"Who else caught you?" He asked, "I don't remember you having a record before I came along."

"Sophie Devereaux isn't the only person I am," she winked.

That smirk of hers grew wider, colder. He knew what that meant. She had a plan forming in that little head of hers., He had to squash that before it became something more. He couldn't afford to get into another brawl with Sophie Devereaux. He may have been the only pro but there were some things he would rather avoid in life.

"You need help, Nate."

Her entire demeanor changed as she deliver that one piece of information. Her arms fell to her sides. Her eyes fell to her feet. Her voice shook with emotion he couldn't place. But he knew a con when he saw one. He could hear it in her voice, the way it took on this false note of urgency. He could detect the forced cracks in her breath, the way her body moved to appear like she was on the verge of losing all hope.

"Quit conning me," he replied.

Her eyes returned to his. The fire was once again there. The sparks of displeasure vibrated from her glare in spades. She was once again considering all of the different ways to kill him. He actually liked that about her. He liked it when she was angry because that was at least an honest reaction. He hated the way she would constantly pretend to be caring, understanding that he needed to grieve his own way. He loved it when she hated him for it.

"If you've got a problem, say it," he said, "But don't you dare con me with one of the same lectures you use on your marks!"

"Don't you dare stand there and tell me what to do!" She hissed, "I joined this team under false pretenses! I thought you were the same man you were two years ago!"

"I am!" He said, but he lied. He wasn't the same man. That man had a wife and a son, a family. That man had something to lose, something to worry about. He didn't have those things anymore. He just had a grifter who kept lecturing him on wrong and right when she was the thief, the criminal.

"Then prove it," she said, "Prove you're the same man by arriving to work on time and without a bloody hangover. Quit drinking on the job. Quit acting like it's a burden to be around us. Act like a bloody leader, Nate."

"You're one to talk," he cried, "How many times have you stolen something from rich men, promised them your heart as a prize. Do you even have a heart?"

She slapped him for that. It was such a surprise he lost his balance. He fell to the floor and blinked several times. She knew how to hit. He'd somehow forgotten that. His vision was swimming and there was nothing he could do. He felt her fall to his side soon after her perfume infiltrated his lungs.

"You used to be able to take any hit I gave you," she said.

He almost came up with a witty retort. But there was something in her voice that gave him pause. It was there, buried deep underneath the strong persona and the lies. She was genuinely worried about him. She actually was trying to do this for the right reasons.

When did that happen?

"I'll make you a deal," he proposed, "I'll figure myself out if you stop trying to fix me. I know it's hard for you to agree to that. You seem to always want to argue me on everything. Just let me figure out where I'm going, okay? You have to give me time, Soph."

"I gave you ten bloody years," he thought he hear her mumble. But she was nodding her head and helping him to his feet before he could really think about that. She was brushing him off and coming up with several excuses for leaving. She also managed to slip in the cost of the shoes into the discussion. He really had no intention of paying her back. The alcohol she destroyed cost just as much as that one pair of ridiculously expensive shoes.

"You said you would sort yourself out."

He did. He promised actually. But Nathan Ford didn't uphold his promises anymore. He stopped doing that when he promised Sam he would find a cure. He stopped when he promised Maggie their little boy would live. He refused to promise Sophie Devereaux anything. He wouldn't keep it. He couldn't.

But he couldn't exactly stomach the guilt at the look of betrayal and disappointment on her face. He actually hated it. It sort of reminded them of their past. He used to be the one disappointed, hoping she'd change for the better. Here he was, finally getting his wish, and all he could do was wish for the past. He didn't like being under her scope. He didn't like hurting her even more.

So he decided to fix that. He got up, walked to his office without a care in the world. Then he poured himself a strong cup of Irish with a hint of coffee. Drowning his sorrow in the drink definitely helped. He would learn to live with the rest of it. He couldn't be the man Sophie wanted anymore.


	57. Chapter 57

The (Other) Morning After Job:

Nathan Ford awoke with a hangover the size of texas, nothing new. He turned towards the clock and glared daggers at the angry red numbers blaring into his eyes. Another early day for him; again, nothing new. Yet he could feel something warm pressing against his chest. It felt like a body and there was an oddly familiar perfume wafting into his nose. Okay, that was new.

He turned left and there she was. Sophie Devereaux was peacefully sleeping beside him, acting as if that was something they always did and would always do.

"Oh no," he groaned.

This was a mistake. He should have known something like this would happen. It was his fault. No, it was definitely her fault. She was putting out all of the signals, wearing those scraps of cloth she dared to call clothes. How was he supposed to say no when her shoulder was practically begging his lips to explore the exposed skin?

It definitely didn't help that he dreamed about their one encounter, the one that happened in San Lorenzo that never happened, constantly. Every time he thought it was completely out of his mind something new would spark in his memories and he was forced to obsess over it all over again.

He really hated her.

And maybe liked her a little too much.

Love was definitely not on the table.

No, not at all.

And he definitely didn't think of her in that way either. He was just drunk. Of course he was always drunk so he should have been used to it by now. There was absolutely no reason whatsoever for him to find her highly attractive. It wasn't like he liked the way her hair shined in the sunlight or the way her lips would just tilt upwards gently every time one of the others did something funny that was completely in appropriate so the lady in her had to be properly contained.

It wasn't like he paid too much attention to her anyway.

He definitely didn't like the way she indulged Parker's every fantasy and made him out to be the bad guy when he told the girl it was too risky and/or dangerous. It wasn't like he enjoyed the way she would send the hacker his way when the boy's questions were about something other than relationship advice. He definitely didn't get upset when she interfered with Hardison and Parker's relationship.

It definitely, completely, totally, hell would only freeze over it were true, didn't bother him any time Eliot flirted with her for the sake of avoiding a con gone wrong.

Definitely not jealous.

Especially when the marks touched her and she had to lean into the touch even though he could tell how much it bothered her.

He'd never wanted to punch anyone more in his life. Even Sterling.

"This was a mistake," he cried.

That was the moment she moaned and started moving. He knew how she awoke. He'd watched her sleep during car rides and cons enough to know that. He actually loved it when she fell asleep on his shoulder, her arm wrapped delicately around his for comfort and protection. So he knew when to run for his life and sanity.

He was a coward but there was no way he was going to allow Sophie Devereaux, the greatest grifter of their generation and only woman who could keep him on his toes in ways even Maggie couldn't do, to rope him into a relationship.

That was not going to happen.

Ever.


	58. Chapter 58

The Rashomon Job

There was an incident that happened that was never mentioned. It didn't exactly happen during the job itself. Nate was busy with Coswell. He didn't have time to hunt down a grifter that seemed to catch the intriguing security guard's eye. He did feel bad for the guy though. So he decided to, gently, explain things. Instead he ended up chickening out and giving false hope of ever seeing the woman again.

This probably ended up being a very bad idea given the current situation.

Sophie was Karen Ipcress. Coswell was… enthralled thoroughly. Nate was… **not** jealous.

"Ms. Ipcress," Coswell giggled, "I never expected to see you again."

"I didn't expect to be here either," Sophie laughed, "I was just showing Mr. Ford, here, around. Apparently he's already been here and just needed somebody to guide him around. I love what you've done with the place. It's got a very… homey feeling."

She was being very nice. Actually, she was being impossibly polite. Everything she said was a complete and utter lie. They hadn't changed a thing. The knife was still the centerpiece to the gallery. Parker was having a field day crawling through the ventilation shaft and reminiscing about the last time they were all there together but didn't know it. Hardison was quietly updating their software since he was the first to crack it to begin with. Eliot… was bored?

"I'm just saying," he cried, "The man saw me flirting with her. It would be completely believable that we would return together."

"And that's why you're still out there," Nate whispered. Then he grinned because Coswell looked as though he actually noticed the move. It wasn't long before the mastermind realized the guy was only checking out the placement of his hand on Sophie.

"I haven't hit anybody in three days," Eliot complained, "I'm going stir-crazy, man."

"Parker's almost done, Nate," Hardison said, "We could hit up a couple bars afterwards. We haven't played clean up the pubs in a while."

"Clean up the pubs!" Parker squealed, "I love that game!"

Poor girl. She was so excited she didn't realize she was right above Coswell's head. He looked up and squeaked in dismay. He was about five seconds away from spotting the thief and blowing their cover. There was only one thing left to do.

Considering the circumstances, making out with Sophie in front of the guy who had a crush on her probably wasn't the best. Poor Coswell was staring at them like a deer caught in the headlight. Nate was wrapping his arms around the grifter and sticking in his tongue in her mouth, purely for effect he did not enjoy it at all. Sophie was too busy planning to really respond to. Her tongue was just working on auto-pilot while her eyes paid careful attention to everything Parker was doing. Nate decided to escalate things.

Smack! "How dare you?" Sophie screamed. She looked towards Coswell and burst into tears.

"I… uh…" Nate was stuck. He forgot the play. He was paying too much attention to Parker disappearing with the knife. Eliot was also laughing his ass off, the bastard.

"I quit!" Sophie squealed, "I'm pressing charges. This is harassment. I didn't do anything wrong! How dare you!"

Coswell came to her defense immediately.

"Would you like me to call the police, Ms. Ipcress?" He was extremely happy all of a sudden. He was practically jumping for joy because she turned Nate down.

"You're married," Sophie hissed. She was aiming to remind him that his character was just a character. He kind of had a different plan though.

"Divorced actually," he said pulling her closer, "and drunk."

"That's it, I'm calling the police." Poor Coswell didn't even make it to the phone. Eliot was there in seconds with a police badge dangling from his neck.

"I was just making my rounds," he shrugged, "Heard her screaming and decided to investigate. Is there a problem here?"

"No…" Nate said.

"yes," Sophie growled, "This man tried to rape me!"

"Okay, that's pushing it a little…"

"It's true!" Coswell cried, "I saw it with my own two eyes."

"Alright, you're coming with me, Mr." Eliot didn't have to sound so happy about that. "I'm going to need you to come with me too mam. I need your statement."

"Yes, of course." Ah, Parker was kind enough to put the fake back.

They were out of the building in seconds flat.

"I feel bad for Coswell," Sophie sighed, "Maybe I should break it off with him. You think he'd forget me and move on then?"

Nate laughed.

"You, Ms. Devereaux, are unforgettable," he said.


	59. Chapter 59

The Three Days of the Hunter Job

She wanted to run the con. He saw that coming a mile away. Ever since the boyfriend, dumbest man on Earth, dumped her she'd been in a funk. He knew she was going to ask to take the lead on a con. So he decided to be gentle with her, let her down easy.

Apparently she had other plans.

"Excuse me," she said, "This coming from the man who spent an entire year drunk working on his obsessive vengeance on every single dimwit in a suit who happened to cross our line of vision?"

Ouch!

"You put some thought into that one, didn't you?" he replied.

In fact, she put a lot of thought into that. He knew she'd been carrying a heavy burden the moment she realized their fantasy fling would never bloom into a romance. He felt the same burden and tried to bury it deeply with the alcohol. But that burden reared its ugly head the day she conned the crew into pulling off that David job. That incident had been proof enough that she kept things bottled up way too much. She needed to open up the cap and let things fizzle out every once in a while. Eventually she would die from all of those emotions staying cooped up.

He wasn't one to talk. He was the exact same way. Maybe that was why he allowed her to do it. He knew what she needed, whether or not she realized it. It was the perfect way for the team to realize she wouldn't betray them again. She learned her lesson. She probably didn't even expect a lesson to be learned.

Now she was searching for something else entirely: purpose.

He knew that one. It was the same problem plaguing him. It was why he took over. Seeing her at the helm of his operation just made him want to stop it right then and there. It was his team, his job to plan. But she knew how to put him in his place with a look. She could tame the control freak in him. That was a power nobody else had, certainly not Maggie.

She did other things too. She taught Parker how to be normal. Nobody else could do that. Nobody else wanted to. She was the only one who knew how to get the thief to listen. She got the hitter to listen too. How many times had she talked the man out of killing someone because they hurt Parker or bullied Hardison? He was practically the big brother of the group who looked towards his big sister to calm down and not commit a crime. Well, at least she made sure he didn't commit murder.

She did things for Hardison too. She showed him a new world. They were very similar actually. They both had to persuade their marks in order to get into secret areas and stuff locked off to normal human beings. Hardison just did so with computer programs while Sophie did it with people.

Her main job was to babysit Nate.

Maybe that was the problem. He didn't need to be looked after anymore. He wasn't drinking. He got his life back in order. He even asked her out on a date. She refused him because she "moved on." Then that boyfriend dumped her and she seemed lost.

Honestly she was lost before that.

He could remember a time where her eyes always shined with mischief. Ever since that stupid screw up, the betrayal, she was different. The glow wasn't there. She looked towards the others in fear, wide-eyed and always pleasing. She stepped carefully around each of them, didn't do anything against the plan unless absolutely necessary. She even took care of the personal burdens of their teammates without acceptance of gratitude.

She was taking in too much pressure and it was getting to her.

"I'm here," he promised.

She simply nodded her head and smiled. She was still lost. He could see it. But maybe he could bring her back. It was only fair after all. She did the same to him.


	60. Chapter 60

The Toy Job

"I'm married," she said.

Hardison could have sworn the mastermind never before appeared so happy in his life. Nathan Ford was not a happy man. The young hacker couldn't even remember a moment where the older man was happy. He knew it happened once. Sophie told him so.

Of course, she was a professional liar as made perfectly clear by what she just said through the coms. She wasn't married. Everybody on the team knew that. But the mark didn't and he was hitting on her hard. Honestly he was more than glad to type into her profile that she was married to an absolutely wonderful, young black millionaire that looked almost exactly the hacker currently typing. He was not allowing that gross man anywhere near his grifter.

"You don't have to do that," Nate said.

The hacker stopped his typing immediately.

"What?" He asked.

"you don't have to…" Nate began.

"No," Hardison shook his head, "you know exactly what I mean by that question."

The mastermind frowned at him in confusion. His blue eyes were shining though. There was just something about the way he was looking at the hacker. The younger man could tell that he wasn't really confused about the question. In fact, he seemed absolutely thrilled that he was caught.

"You want me to list your alias as the husband then?" Hardison asked.

He wasn't gonna mention it. He wasn't going to touch that with a ten foot pole. He wasn't even going to consider the consequences of such a decision. This was completely shocking. This was from out of left field. This was… totally Nathan Ford.

"You can say it, you know," Nate whispered into his ear.

Nu-uh! He wasn't going to mention it at all. He wasn't even going to entertain the idea. There was no possible way on Earth that was ever going to happen. Nathan Ford was a narcissitic asshole who only thought of himself, except for the times his goody-two shoe brain didn't. There was absolutely no way Nathan Ford was going to…

"You won't find it online."

How the hell…? "It's a custom-made…" He quickly muted his com and turned his and the mastermind's off just to be safe. Then he turned his chair around and stared at the man in awe. "Engagement ring?"

The mastermind's smile was something to behold. It was a beacon of light in the middle of the night. The man's teeth were actually crooked and oddly white. His eyes crinkled with joy and took away several decades in age. He'd never looked so happy before. It was creepy.

"You're gonna…" Hardison stuttered, "To a woman whose… man, you don't even know her real… She's not even gonna… Did you even discuss… I didn't even think you… If you hurt her I will find you and have Eliot kill you!"

Nate just chuckled at that. He didn't even take it as a real threat. He just leaned over him and unmuted their coms. Then he took a long time trying to remember how to turn their coms on remotely. Hardison gave up all hope on him and showed him the button, again.

"Man can't even remember a simple on button for com lines," Hardison grumbled, "How does he expect to…?"

"Eh-hem!" Nate coughed.

Oh right! They were still on coms. He was going to have to remember that. That was something very important to remember when certain things were newly discovered and a certain brunette grifter didn't know about them… at all.

"So, how's your relationship with Parker?"

"Hardison better say awesome," Eliot replied right on cue, "because if he doesn't…"

"Of course I'm awesome," Parker said, "Why wouldn't I be awesome. I'm like, the best girlfriend ever. Unless you count Sophie. But I don't count Sophie. She's more like… not a girlfriend."

"What do you mean…?"

Ooh, that man was going to die.


	61. Chapter 61

The Van Gogh Job:

Words:

"So Cecilia was a war bride, hmm?" Sophie asked smiling at Nate all the while.

"So the Sheriff met her during the war," Hardison laughed, "Man, that must have been some interesting love story."

"Ooh!" Parker cheered, "I know what happened! So, they were in the middle of the war…

"Well, Cecilia was working the hospital, right? So the Sheriff wasn't even supposed to be there. He was bringing in a buddy of his because the guy had somehow managed to break a bone or something."

"This story sucks," Eliot called from the distance.

"Man, let her tell the story," Hardison growled.

"Let's say the Sheriff looked like Nate," Parker called, "Because I suck at descriptions."

"True," Eliot nodded.

"Says the man who compared a guy to a fruit," Hardison replied.

"Peach hair is an adequate description…"

"Anyway!" Parker called, "He looked like Nate. He was pulling in his body, Paul… who looked like Paul the guy we helped do that thing with the statue that was a miracle and Hardison was afraid Zeus would strike us down. So Sheriff brought in Paul to get looked at. Paul was bleeding everywhere and I mean everywhere he was gushing blood from his…"

"Spare the details," Sophie begged, "Please."

"Okay, so Paul was in bad shape. Sheriff Nate was doing his best to get the nurses' attention but they were a bit busy. The hospital tent was being bombed. There were dead bodies everywhere. People were constantly diving bombs and screaming in terror. The place was swamped. Dying soldiers were screaming for release. It wasn't a good time.

The Sheriff just so happened to look up in between one of the many bomb fires of the night. He saw this nurse traveling from soldier to the next and treating them despite the constant debris falling on top of her. She was healing the sick and fixing legs like there was no tomorrow. Well, let's face it there kind of wasn't. So she was fixing these legs and doing her best to stop the bleeding. She was even treating the fresh wounds caused by the bombings. She was so busy she didn't even hear the next bomb coming.

The Sheriff just reacted. He dropped his buddy Paul and slammed the woman to the ground just as a bomb conveniently landed right where she was standing. He covered her body with his own and protected her from the blast. Several of her patients died but she didn't because of the sheriff. Anyway the sheriff did a push-up to make sure she was alright and stared. He was staring at the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. We'll say she looks like Sophie."

"Why does she look like me?" Sophie asked.

"This is my story now shush!" Parker said, "So the sheriff saved the nurse and smiled because he'd pretty much just saved an angel in his opinion.

'You saved me,' she said.

He smiled back at her and said, 'Well it appears so, mam.'

'How can I ever repay you?' she asked.

'Well, mam,' he said, 'I would surely appreciate it if you saved my friend's life over there.'

She smiled towards him and immediately did what was asked. She owed him a debt after all. So she took one look at Paul's leg and immediately started amputating it. I'll spare you the gory details, but it wasn't pretty. Paul nearly lost his life from it, but he was saved. He was legless now but he was able to go home and never think about the war ever again. But the sheriff had a secret.

'Your friend is going to pull through,' the nurse said.

The sheriff smiled at her and thanked her for her kindness.

'Thank you,' he said, 'You're a true miracle worker.'

Then, before the nurse could even think about replying, he passed out. She caught him though. That was how she noticed the fragments of shrapnel still in his back. She treated them as best as she could but there was no hope. He was considered as good as dead.

But Cecilia refused to believe that her hero was going to die. Against the wishes of her superiors she hid him away and took care of him secretly. She treated his wounds day and night. She talked to him constantly about the day's events. And slowly but surely, he got better. Eventually she was starting to notice him moving his hand or wiggling his tone. Then his eyes, whatever color Nate's are, popped open. The two began to talk and talk and talk. He would talk about Oregon and she would talk about England. Then they fell in love and got married; the end."

"You suck at telling stories, Parker," Eliot grumbled.

"I thought it was awesome," Hardison cheered.

Parker stared at Nate and Sophie, eagerly yearning for their assessment of her story.

"stick the story telling to us, Parker," Nate said, "but that wasn't bad for your first time."

"That wasn't my first time," the girl said, "my first time happened when I was…"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence," Sophie exclaimed, "Tomorrow morning, Nate and I are going to teach you how to properly tell a story."

"Why am I getting hooked into this?" Nate demanded bitterly.

"Because you're the one who told her to listen and indulged her need to learn more information," Sophie screamed, "Plus I need a partner when we get to Shakespeare."i

Parker decided now was the best time to run away. The mastermind and grifter were about to fight. That was never a good time.


	62. Chapter 62

Voyeurism:

Words: 636

Eliot was not a voyeur. In fact, he usually tried to make his private moments as private as possible, a feat when your teammates were Parker and Hardison. He closed curtains. He locked doors. He even made certain there was only one mirror in his room and that was always put in his top drawer safely tucked beneath his socks. So this, this was unprecedented.

He didn't mean to watch. He had plans to do other, less important things. He didn't even want to watch. But she had him spellbound and dumbfounded. Sophie Devereaux, the woman he thought he was finally able to know and trust again, was with another man. That wasn't exactly unheard of. He wasn't the man she was typically with. Nathan Ford had, supposedly, won her heart over a long time ago; long before the team came to be. But the man in that bedroom was not their leader.

No, it was Damien Moreau. The enemy they had done everything in their power to destroy was finally free. That was news to Eliot Spencer. He never expected to not be informed of the situation. General Flores was supposed to tell him when something like this happened.

Sophie wasn't acting normal. That was weird in itself. The woman was natural grifter who could fool even the smartest of men into doing and believing whatever she desired. She left with some stupid excuse, one the others trusted her enough to allow her to go on. So Eliot did what any good hitter would do. He excused himself a few minutes later with another lame excuse that definitely sounded more believable than the one Sophie gave them. He barely made it in time to watch her car take off down the road. He had to speed in order to catch up, but when he finally did catch up things weren't all too pretty either.

Sophie was driving to the outskirts of town, a place almost on the exact opposite side of town where she and Nate lived. Eliot could see her head working right and left in search of a tail. He moved the car specifically so she wouldn't realize she had one. Ten minutes later he pulled up to an abandoned cabin. The grifter was already making her way out of the car so he decided to drive to the next available space and parked there. He walked back to the cabin, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The first thing he saw was Damien Moreau in the window. Then Sophie Devereaux, a woman who had become a good friend, sneaked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. She giggled at the surprise and happiness on his face. Then she was capturing his lips in a searing kiss that hinted at more. The two were tearing off each other's clothes and definitely having a good time before Eliot even realized what was happening.

He actually tried to run in there and steal her away, but he couldn't. He was trapped, watching them in all their… naked glory. He couldn't move, could barely breathe. The only thing that was going through his mind was how he was going to tell Nate what his wife was doing, and whom she was doing it with. Eliot Spencer was going to be the man to kill Nathan Ford this time around. All because his wife had to go cheat on him with their greatest enemy.

So he stayed and he watched. He watched as they moved from the window, to the couch. He stared as they started using the coffee table for their fun. Eliot Spencer wasn't a voyeur but he sure felt like one. He was watching his world burn with adultery and sex. Everything they once were as a team, had changed.


	63. Chapter 63

Don't Ask, Don't Tell:

Words: 720

Nate wasn't as blind as everyone thought. He knew what his wife was up to. He knew there was something wrong with the excuses she made. He even registered the lies in her tone. He just let it happen because he figured it was what he was supposed to do.

He knew it was a fantasy, thinking he could keep her to himself for the rest of their lives. She was a grifter. It was in her nature to move from one chess board to the next. He had only hoped their trust would be enough. It wasn't. She clearly needed more than his trust if she was straying away.

He would often find her whispering into her phone, pretending it was something else entirely.

"Oh, I'm not spoiling your birthday present, you wicked man."

Or

"Sometimes I have contacts who do not need to know I married the man they used to protect me from."

His personal favorite was the day he entered their house and found her rummaging through the desks, looking for something in particular. She was muttering to herself and completely consumed in what she was doing. She had absolutely no idea he was in there. She was looking for all the world like her world was about to be over. She just kept filtering through paper after paper, muttering about how she couldn't find that one thing she needed.

"He'll be home any second," she cried, "How am I supposed to explain this? He's going to hate me."

"Who?" He asked. He had a history of only being able to watch her suffer for so long.

She whipped her head around so fast he was afraid she broke it completely. Then those brown eyes of her faded behind the grifter within. Her chin lifted slightly, stubbornly. Her hands went onto her hips and every inch of her turned into a cold woman with nothing left to lose.

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked.

He shrugged and set down his luggage. He'd only been gone three days. What kind of mess could she have possibly gotten herself into now? How did she do it in three days? He warned her about this.

"Who's going to hate you, Sophie?" He asked.

The grifter rolled her eyes and laughed. Then she moved towards him, swaying her hips as she went. There was a quick moment where her hands were no longer in his sight, slowly wrapping their way around him. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and rubbed her cheek against his.

"You're going to hate me," she said, "because I lost my ring."

She waved her hand in front of him and smiled sadly. Then she backed away and looked down at her feet. He laughed, trying to decide how that could warrant such panic from her.

He didn't realize until later why she was so panicked. It had been thrown under a curio in the living room, discarded for some reason he couldn't understand. She had told him it happened while she was cleaning, who knew she was a clean-freak, but he knew better. He saw the little victory dance she gave when looking in the drawers. At first he thought it was because she found her ring. He soon realized the truth. She was dancing because of a letter, just one little letter. She lied to him and clearly used the ring as an excuse to hide something from him.

He knew the very moment Eliot found out exactly what it was she did. The hitter couldn't look him straight in the eye. And every time he did manage to it was always with a look of horror and pure pity. The younger man did everything in his power to avoid being left alone with the mastermind. Nate understood why too. Eliot had made a silent pact with them all. It happened sometime after the Moreau incident. If someone asked him a question, he would tell them the answer no matter how bad it was. If he didn't want to answer the question, he would do everything he could to keep you from asking. Don't ask, don't tell. That was his policy and Nate was going to respect that.

He didn't want to hear about his wife's affair anyway.


	64. Chapter 64

Lies:

Words: 624

"I've got to help set up lights at the theatre," she said, "I won't be home 'til late."

"Wasn't that the excuse you used last week," Nate called.

She stopped with her hand still on the doorknob. The door was open. She had nothing but a few meters before she was free. But Sophie Devereaux always knew when to flee and when you're free. This was neither of those times. She was caught. He was finally sick of the lies.

"And the week before that too," he finished plainly.

She closed the door and turned. She put her arms on her hips because it was expected, not because she was mad. She wanted to burst into tears and beg for mercy. Forgiveness was never on the table, not after what she did and was still doing.

"I don't know much about lights, Soph." He stepped towards her slowly, evenly. "But I know your small theatre doesn't take that long, couldn't actually. I visited it not too long ago. I was looking for you actually. Apparently the lights were finished some time ago. You weren't even needed that day either. None of your students knew where you were. They said you didn't make it to lessons."

"I was stuck in traffic from a meeting prior." She shrugged.

"Eliot knows," he said, "I didn't ask him what. I wanted to hear it from you. But I did ask him how he knew that information. It seems he followed you."

Sophie felt the tears develop in her eyes. She tried to push them away. She didn't have a right to cry. She barely even had the right to breathe. He needed to get this out. She had to let him get that far. She couldn't say it. She wouldn't.

"Sophie, please," he said. His eyes were begging, pleading with her for the truth. He wanted something she couldn't give him. "Please tell me it isn't an affair."

This time she did cry. It wasn't on purpose. The tears fell from her eyes while a sob broke free of her lips. She tried to squelch it down. She pressed her hands solidly against her lips. Then she closed her eyes and fought against the new tears that wanted to develop there. She wasn't going to be that person. He deserved someone else entirely.

"I can't," she gasped.

She knew he had the right to be angry. He accepted her lies because he trusted her, deeply. He wanted to believe her when she made up some stupid excuse. She knew him. She knew how he thought. But she knew he would eventually get sick of the lies and demand the truth. She even suspected it was sometime soon. But the absolute heartbreak on his face was wrong. She didn't expect him to look so defeated.

"If you step out of that door," he said, "I'm going to take that as my cue to leave. I don't want excuses. I don't want to even hear how or why it happened. I can't even trust myself to know who. But please don't walk out that door."

She couldn't help gasping in awe. He wanted to fix this. He wanted to salvage whatever small part of their relationship they had left. He was actually giving her the one thing she wanted most in the world. She just wished she could accept the offer.

"It's already too late," she said. Then she licked her lips and did her best to deliver the final nail in his coffin. She'd practiced this one line several times over the past few weeks. It was time she delivered him one final lie. "I love him."

She opened the door and escaped while she still had the chance.


	65. Chapter 65

Caught in the act:

Words: 632

It was the middle of the night, well past midnight. Sophie had been staring at the ceiling for the past hour and a half, thinking and planning. Damien's arms were still held tightly around her. She could feel his hot, sticky breath on her shoulder. Who knew the fearsome terror known as Damien Moreau enjoyed cuddling so much?

She moved swiftly. Her contact in London would be waking up an hour earlier than usual but it was the only time she had free. He would understand when she gave him the information. 1 in Portland always ended up being 9 in London. Hopefully he would have enough time to get everything situated. They were running out of time. She dialed the number and prayed her plans would come through.

"Hello," a voice gruffly replied.

"It's me," she said, "Moreau's planning on taking me to Paris this Sunday. That's in three days. He says he has business to take care of while we're there. I don't exactly know what business but you have a list of his contacts, don't you?"

"Yeah," the voice replied, "I'll talk to my boss. We'll see if we can get a team together in time. Keep up the good work."

"How are the others?" She asked.

She couldn't help it. It had been two weeks since she saw or heard from any of her teammates. She didn't blame them either. It was only natural for them to despise her for breaking Nate further. She just wished they could have known the truth. Sleeping Moreau was the only way she could protect them.

"They're improving," the voice said, "I know it isn't much considering the circumstances. But Parker and Hardison are not fighting anymore. They seem to have quit their little coupling but they are trying to be friends again."

"They broke up," she sighed, "I was afraid that would happen."

"Eliot's mostly spending his time in the restaurant," her contact said, "He'll occasionally go off to perform one of those side jobs you warned us about, but my friends say that he is mostly staying at home from now on. Apparently our mission has made your team's escapades in theft obsolete. They haven't stolen anything lately. That's natural. I think it will be a long time before your teammates are well enough to do their duty again."

"And Nate?" She hated how desperate she sounded. But the mastermind was at the top of her list of worries. She was scared he would crawl back into the bottle and kill himself while doing it.

"He'll recover," he said, "eventually."

"You promised me I would be out of here weeks ago," she growled, "I had to let my husband leave just to get this job done. I've lost everything for you. You owe me."

"Hello darling."

Sophie froze at that voice. Her spine tinkled with fear. Every hair on the back of her necked raised the alarm. Damien Moreau was awake and right behind her. A smile formed on her face and she turned an innocent gaze his way.

"Hello Damien," she said, "I was just telling my friend everything that's happened since last we met. It's just now nine over there and I figured since I was up anyway…"

Damien Moreau moved forward slowly. He rose to his full height and leered over her gracefully. Gently, he removed the phone from her hand and placed it against his ear. He smiled at her, but there was no joy in his eyes. No his eyes were filled to the brim with anger and hate.

"I'm afraid she won't be able to cash in on that favor you owe her," he said. Then he clicked the phone shut and invaded her personal space menacingly. "I really wish you didn't do that."


	66. Chapter 66

Hatred:

Words: 666

Hardison hated her. He absolutely hated her. She had no right to do that to him, to them. She just decided she was sick of waking up to Nate every day and then she decided it was alright if she didn't have to see any of them anymore. She not only left the mastermind, broke him beyond all repair. She left them all, and broke them all beyond repair.

He understood he would lose Parker. He knew it the very moment Eliot told them what was wrong with Nate and Sophie. Parker wouldn't believe the grifter was capable of such a horrendous thing. She'd pretty much forgotten all about that one time Sophie betrayed them. In her mind the grifter could do no wrong. Proof positive every time they tried to talk.

Parker kept suggesting that they go find their grifter and bring her back. The girl wanted answers, answers the rest of them couldn't give. She ran away the first time they all told her no. The second time she told all of them off and then went to join Nate in a drinking spree. That was when they broke up. Hardison couldn't stand the idea of becoming anything like the woman who left. He wouldn't allow himself to be that way.

He hated Nate too. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was unfair. The mastermind had a history of being bad at relationships. He didn't have any friends outside of the team, unless you counted Hurley and Paul. Maggie always told them he wasn't the most pleasant person to live with. He had a temper that even Eliot could envy. He was an obnoxious alcoholic who was even more of a jerk when he was sober.

But it was Nate's fault she left. He promised to protect her, to marry her, to satisfy her every need. He somehow missed the mark though. He had to have because she left him for somebody else. She fell in love with somebody else, the man she was doing instead of Nate. And what did the mastermind do to bring her back?

Nothing. The man did absolutely nothing like he was supposed to. He just let her go all because she said she was in love with the other guy. Sophie was a professional liar. How could he be so certain she was telling the truth? Maybe she just didn't want to be married anymore. Maybe she didn't even want to be married to begin with. Maybe that was her way out. Have an affair with some stranger and wait until her husband found out and then say it was because she was in love with the other man; that made sense. Plus she could totally get away with that excuse too.

He hated Eliot too. It was the hitter's job to protect them. He was supposed to tell them when bad stuff was going to happen. He was supposed to follow her and demand to know what she was thinking. He wasn't supposed to pretend everything was fine and act like nothing happened. He didn't even volunteer his useful skills for Parker's mission.

The hacker slammed his fists against the table, effectively spilling his orange soda all over his laptop, the table and the floor.

"Great," he growled, "just great."

He probably shouldn't have thrown the contents of the table after that. He just couldn't really help his own temper anymore. Everything he wanted, everything he needed; were gone. He lost Parker because of that evil woman. Nate was drowning himself in a bottle, ready to disappear from them forever. Eliot buried himself in the restaurant but the food was seriously starting to taste horrendous. He couldn't even stand looking at himself in the mirror anymore.

Well there it was. The truth finally came out after all of those weeks of waiting. He should have known. Of course he hated himself most of all. He trusted her to be there for them all.


	67. Chapter 67

Missing Persons:

Words: 1,373

The agency didn't make mistakes. It was a dangerous business. People disappeared all the time. Consultants and thieves were considered nothing more than acceptable losses. But there were certain things Tara Cole wouldn't accept. Sophie Devereaux missing was one of them.

She filed the report in her hometown because she figured the agency wouldn't care enough to correct it. It would only solidify their story. Nobody had heard from the brunette grifter since her last phone call and that was weeks ago. Ordinarily that wouldn't cause any alarms but Moreau's message was pretty clear. She didn't have time for agency policy.

So she decided to go against them. And there was only one team she could trust to do it. She walked into the Portland Brewpub with every expectation of being unwelcomed. She did not, however, expect to be engulfed in a pile of arms the moments she walked through the door. Parker's blonde hair smelled different from what she remembered and the girl was a lot gentler at squeezing you against her, but this was Parker.

"Hi," Parker said, pulling away slightly. Her blue-grey eyes were red and puffy. The sparkle had disappeared completely. There was no smile on her face and even the vibe she was giving off was different. "How have you been?"

"No time for pleasantries, Parker," Tara replied, "We've got business to attend to."

She felt Hardison's ears tweak her way but the hacker made no other move of greeting. He was grumpily cleaning up a spill and trying to salvage what was left of his tiny computer. Obviously he had just had a fight with the table. Eliot was clearly visible in the kitchen, fixing up another one of his mouthwatering sandwiches. His hair was shorter and his greeting non-existent. He didn't even nod to acknowledge her presence. He just raised an eyebrow and kept on serving.

Predictably Nate was the only one who made sense. He was easily found sipping away at the bar. His back was hunched slightly and he was gunning down that Jameson like it was nothing. The poor bartender serving him kept looking towards Hardison and Eliot for instructions. They didn't seem too interested in answering her either. Perfect, that was just the in she needed. She grabbed his next drink and chugged it down.

"You're cut off," she said, "I need you sober and useful."

Nate looked at her, pathetic as always. But there was something akin to panic in his eyes. Those knowledgeable blue eyes of his were clinging to her as though she was his last hope. There was even a small smile on his lips. But there was also coldness in his voice as he spoke.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Sophie's missing," she replied.

She knew the minute she said it that that was the winning phrase. Parker was at her side, staring at her numbly. Hardison broke a glass and marched towards her in a huff. Even Eliot stopped what he was doing and moved to be behind the bar. Nate remained unmoved and sitting.

"What do ya mean she's missin?" Eliot asked. His accent slowly became more pronounced with every word he spoke. "Isn't she with that boyfriend of hers?"

Tara flinched. She knew that was coming but she still wasn't prepared for the hate in the hitter's words. Of course, that hate was mirrored in the hacker's eyes. Even the thief seemed to harbor some ill will towards the person who seemingly ruined her family. Nate still remained seated and staring at her.

"Damien Moreau is not her boyfriend," she replied.

That got a reaction. Nate was out of his stool in seconds flat. His hands wrapped around her throat and he was pushing her against the counter as if he'd done it a million times. He had somehow figured out she had a taser too. He handed it to Parker like it was nothing. Then he moved his face mere inches away from her own.

"What did you do?" He asked.

Tara laughed. It wasn't humorous. It wasn't even cold. It was just a laugh of nothing but pure relief. Of course the mastermind would have figured it out. He wasn't stupid. Sophie had been worried about that from the very beginning. The only question was:

"How did you figure it out?"

He smiled politely at her but didn't relinquish his hold. Eliot's arms were wrapped firmly around his wrist to keep him from squeezing tighter, but that was it. The mastermind seemed to still be in control. Plus Parker had decided to turn the taser onto her should she fail to answer the question properly. Hardison seemed to be the only normal one of the group. He was shooing people out of the restaurant with his cold stare, willing for a fight if she read him right.

"She told me she loved him," he shrugged, "I still know how to tell when she lies."

Eliot let go and his weight was sorely missed. Tara actually felt the pressure on her throat now. The hitter just stared at the mastermind in shock. The hacker, likewise, mimicked him. Even Parker seemed stunned by this new revelation.

"I know Sophie," he shrugged, "She would only leave if it would protect us."

"You knew?" Eliot growled, "I thought she was a little… and you knew? How did you know she was with Moreau?"

"I didn't," Nate said, "It was just a guess. Sophie wouldn't act that way for just any threat and the way you kept avoiding the question of who was sort of hint enough. Plus I didn't want Hardison to confirm it so I compiled a short list. Moreau happened to be at the top."

"So she does love us?" Parker asked, sounding as a child would when discussing a divorce.

"I can't believe you people," Hardison growled, "This woman, her friend, comes to us and tells us a story that just fits perfectly with our situation and we're going to believe her? Need I remind you that she is a grifter too. Not to mention the fact that her loyalties are with that other grifter who abandoned us not too long ago."

"Calm down Hardison," Tara rolled her eyes, "She was working a favor for me. The agency needed somebody not involved and she happened to be it. It also helped that she was going to benefit from his departure as much as the rest of us."

"How long?" Nate asked, adding pressure as he spoke.

"Two months," she coughed. It had been a while since she did anything remotely like this. "Our last contact ended with Moreau giving us the clear message that she wouldn't return."

Eliot swore a slew of dirty words. Then he threw a glass to exclamate his point. He removed the mastermind's hands from around her throat and added his own. He pulled her by her shoulders and spun her around so they were facing. The fury in his eyes was almost too frightening to behold.

"She's been missing for two months and you just now come to us for help?" He screamed, "You bitch! Do you know what you've done?"

He threw her towards the ground and walked away in defeat. The others were staring at him, begging him for an answer. Then his blue eyes turned towards them with sadness she'd never seen before. His shoulders fell forward and his knees gave out. Tears clearly gathered in his eyes. They were growing red and glistened in more than just the light.

"She's dead, isn't she?"

The way the mastermind asked the question didn't bode well for their mission. But Eliot merely shook his head. He motioned towards Parker and stood up straight. Hardison moved towards him, delicately placing his hand on friend's shoulder. Tara tried to get the feeling back into her throat.

"My superiors think she's being kept alive," she said, "but it won't be for very much longer."

"Moreau likes to play with his victims," Eliot replied, "It won't be long before we've lost her completely. We can only hope she's dead when we get there."

And that was exactly what Tara was expecting.

"Okay team," Nate said, "Let's go steal my wife."


	68. Chapter 68

Fatalism:

Words: 1,182

Moreau was angry again. She was alright with that. She knew what it meant when he was angry. It meant her friends and family were safe. It meant he didn't know who she was, what she was. He had no idea where to begin unsettling her. She was merely a pawn that was becoming too much of a burden. She was alright with that.

She'd always known this would be her fate.

"Tell me who you work for!" He yelled, slapping her in exclamation.

She merely grinned through the pain. Then she shook her head and laughed. He grabbed her by the throat and snarled in her face. She stopped laughing soon after, but only because he threw her into the wall and made the breath fly right out of her.

"Why?" He demanded, "Why did you do this? I could have made you a queen! You could have had anything your little heart desired. You could have been by my side and revered by billions!"

She couldn't help but laugh at the very idea of that.

"I've already been one of those," she said, "That wasn't never I life I wanted."

"I could have given you the world on a silver platter," he said. Then his tone changed and his posture with it. A smile fell on his face and his eyes grew bright with fiery hope again. "You can still have that. All you have to do is tell me who sent you and why. I can give you more than anything they could ever offer. You don't have to suffer anymore."

She couldn't help but gasp in surprise. It made sense. She was a very powerful grifter. She could make powerful men do her bidding without them even realizing it. This though, this was poetic justice. She spent all her years doing this to men she couldn't give a damn about. Now she was doing this for somebody other than herself and it apparently made her con all the better for it.

"Have you fallen in love with me?" She asked, taken aback by the very idea of it.

"Of course not," he said. But she knew it was a lie. He ducked his head when he said it. He couldn't even meet her eyes or look at her when he denied her claim.

"Is that why I'm still alive?" She asked. She never really learned when to keep her mouth shut anyway. "You're in love with me."

"Stop it!" He yelled, an admission despite his tone.

He was shaking. He was consumed with rage and hate. There was disgust as well. He probably thought he had his feelings properly in check. Why else would he allow her so close? They were both very similar in that aspect. They couldn't trust themselves or their own hearts. Everything they were was based on a lie. But maybe that was the way it was meant to be.

"Damien," she said. Tears enveloped her eyes at the very idea that popped into her mind. But she had other people to think of. She had more important things to think about than her own life.

"Don't," he growled, "No more lies. I'm so tired of your lies."

He looked it too. He looked on the verge of truly losing his temper. He probably went on a killing spree the moment he learned it was all just a con. It was time to go with new tactics, tactics he just gave her the power to use.

"If I tell you who sent me," she said. She thought carefully as she spoke. One wrong word and everything would be over. "You'll make me your queen?"

A slight smile cracked upon his lips. It was quite miniscule, barely even there. It was just a gentle tip of the corner of his mouth but that was all she needed. All she had to do was appeal to his sense of necessity and importance. She could do that. She could be the woman she used to be, the selfish bitch who only nurtured her needs. She could do that again. No problem.

"The next words out of your mouth better be the answer to my question," he said, "or I will kill you, no offense."

"None taken," she said. He watched his smile grow at the way she openly defied him. It was a move that meant so much more to him. It was the move he needed her to make. "But I don't believe you. What's to stop you from killing me as soon as you get your information? I have no guarantees."

He smiled at her again. Her mind was the first thing he complimented. He used the exact same words Nate had. Only Moreau didn't use them in scorn. He used them with wonder coloring his every word. Then he followed it with a kiss, not handcuffs. He understood her. That was her way in from the very beginning.

He stepped forward slowly, cautiously. He still sensed a trap so she had to be patient. She stayed still, wary of a trick. But she was an expert in body language. She knew no harm was coming her way this time around. He didn't disappoint either. He unlocked her chains and gently kissed the raw skin there. Then he pulled her to her feet and held her close to his chest, looking into her eyes deeply.

"Tell me who wanted you to lead me to my ruin," he said, "and I will give you the world."

So she told him exactly what he wanted to hear. She told him about being approached by her friend Tara, about doing this job as a favor. She told him when the con started and when it ended. She told him about her husband and how she didn't make that up. She told him everything. And in return he rewarded her with a kiss.

And cuffs.

"Thank you," he said, "but I can't trust you just yet. I will keep my word, if and only if you keep yours. You must prove to me that you deserve the honor of being my queen. Please don't disappoint me again."

"You won't regret this," she said, "I'm full of surprises. You'll miss me too much."

He laughed and nodded his head in agreement. Then he gave her another, more powerful kiss. He left with several lingering looks. Sophie smiled in victory not in happiness. She could do this. She could be this person. This was her fate after all. She was destined to lead the life of a queen, ruling at the side of a madman with a gun. It would be hard at first. He couldn't trust her, not anymore. But he would trust her again. It would take some time and a lot of work, but trust would eventually find him again. She would do whatever it took to regain his trust. She would advise him out of danger, protect him from his enemies. She could be his guide, his conscious.

And she'd guide him right into his own undoing.


	69. Chapter 69

Embarrassment:

Words: 780

Damien Moreau was not a happy camper. He spent his entire life building a fearless empire. He'd seen every con imaginable. He'd even been defeated by the only thing he didn't see coming. He learned from his mistakes. He took his enemies and crushed them before they could undo him. He even showed know leniency in his first few years as leader of the criminal world. He knew deceit because that was the rule he lived by.

Then he met… her.

It was an embarrassment. He knew it the moment he met her. She was so beautiful and so simple in her beauty. She didn't even wear that much make-up. She just beamed beauty. She was just so beautiful he had to have her. So he told her how beautiful she was and ignored the ring on her finger. If anything that only seemed to make her more irresistible and thus more desirable. He asked her for coffee and she politely declined.

It was such an obvious con but at the time he was hooked. She denied him so naturally he had to have her even more. He began looking for her everywhere. He discovered her favorite coffee shop and happened upon her the very next morning. He found her alone and upset in her favorite restaurant. That had only been slightly intentional. He planned on running into her and her husband at the restaurant. He'd paid someone to tell him if they had a reservation and where. He did not expect the husband to be such an idiot.

So he sat across from her and told her to order whatever she liked. He would pay and he wouldn't take no for an answer. He rarely got to play the white knight card so he enjoyed it just a little too much. He should have seen through her act then. She just allowed him to do it and they shared quite a few laughs over a lovely wine.

He knew he was in trouble the moment he looked forward to their discussions. That's how it started. They didn't sleep together immediately. She wouldn't have been so appealing if they had. She kept to her vows and they spent time building a relationship based on friendship. He thought he was conning her with that one. He always used the just friends card to get the pretty, married ones.

Now, after weeks of cultivating and finally getting what he wanted he was stuck. She had him exactly where she wanted him and he let her do it. He shouldn't have been so upset over her phone call. It wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. But he was so willing to believe her words, he easy lie to cover up all of those things she said. He wouldn't lie if he said he didn't consider killing her over the phone. He wanted to use her as a message to all those agencies looking to cage him all over again.

But the moment he drew his gun he knew he was undone. She just stared back at him defiantly. There was no fear on her features. She clearly knew how this business went. She was more than willing to die if that was what he wanted. He even felt proud of her for it. She didn't plea for her life. She didn't even try to bargain with him. She just sat there and glared at the gun in his hands.

"If you're going to shoot me, you better do it now," she said, "It's what I deserve and we both know it."

"Who do you work for?" He asked. He didn't even know why he wanted to know. He didn't really care. He could guess at which agencies and hurt them for this later. But he needed an excuse, a reason to keep her alive. He couldn't have word getting out that he had gone soft. That would be embarrassing.

She refused to tell him on principle. So he threw her into the basement. Then he left her alone for a day. Now he was debating what to do next. That was what was such an embarrassment. He used to be better than this. He used to take spies and kill them slowly right in front of their families. He used to herald men who could slice people open and laugh about it. But that woman down stairs had him contemplating life itself and he couldn't stand it.

So he came up with a plan. He would string her along for a few more weeks. If she bent to his will he would reward her. After all, brainwashing worked just as well as hitting.


	70. Chapter 70

Fighting/Arguing:

Words: 846

The fights began shortly after Sophie disappeared. They started out as small little bickerings that really weren't that noteworthy. They quickly grew from that. The last one had been the most explosive. Literally, Parker bombed his computer in frustration of his not cooperating approach to life. He naturally decided breaking up with her was the answer.

Now this, this was different.

"We're not going after her," Hardison cried shaking his head all the while.

"Yes, we are," Parker said, "She's our friend and she needs our help."

"Then I guess she shouldn't have lied to us and got her ass into trouble," he replied.

Parker hit him for that one. It was in the face and a full out punch. She didn't even try to not hurt him. She just slammed her fist into his face and growled. Her eyes were wide with anger and she was on the verge of crying. So he kicked her legs right out from under her.

At least he tried to.

"Oh no you did not," she yelled.

She did a black flip and then a cartwheel. He rolled over, like a fish, and struggled to get to his feet in time for the next blow. He failed miserably. Her right foot connected with his abdomen seconds later. He was back on the floor wheezing and trying his hardest to remember Eliot's training. He lucked out too.

Parker's left foot was heading towards his face at a million miles an hour. He dodged it with a little tuck and roll action. Then he rose to his feet and slammed her shoulder with a little punch of his own. Seconds later he regretted the action because he totally just hit Parker.

She reacted the way any woman of her status would. She did a double kick assault. He dodged the first foot and got a face full of the second one. She followed through with a jab to his stomach and an elbow in his back. This time he succeeded in getting her off of her feet. Then he used his entire weight to hold her on the ground.

"I'm not helping that selfish, stubborn woman," he cried.

She hit him in the solar plexus and rolled them over.

"We need you," she said.

He swung his feet over her head and rolled them over again.

"Get Chaos," he replied, "I'm not helping her!"

She hit him in the crotch and rolled them over again.

"She needs you too!" She cried.

He hit her in the rib and rolled them both over again. Tears were stinging his eyes and hers. He was using every muscle and bone in his body to keep the squirming thief at bay. But he couldn't help the emotions flooding through him. He couldn't help the deep feeling of betrayal and panic.

"I don't need her," he whispered.

Parker stopped moving immediately. It was the best move she could have made. He was so used to her weight supporting him that just the simple retraction of muscles forced him to make a face plant right on top of her. He rolled onto his side and just laid there, exhausted.

They laid like that for a while, just breathing and cooling down from their exhaustive battle. He actually enjoyed himself too. It was actually kind of nice, venting off steam. It was almost as though all of those months of suffering came together in that one moment. He felt like a great burden had just been released.

"She left for us, Hardison," Parker said, "Now she needs us to return the favor. We can't let her down. She's our Sophie."

He could kiss her for that. He even thought about it. But there was too much wrong with them at the moment, too much they needed to get through. He felt like an idiot, a bastard. He was trying so hard not to be Sophie that he ended up becoming Nate instead. He came into thief world with the absolute worst role models in the history of role models.

"I didn't want to be her," he admitted softly, "I broke up with you because you were broken and I didn't want to string you along only to abandon you at your happiest. I didn't want to do to you what she did to Nate."

"So instead you did what Nate used to do to Sophie," Parker nodded, "You were an idiot. Eliot already explained it to me. It's okay. I forgive you. That's what girlfriends do… right?"

Hardison pulled her into a deep kiss and refused to let go. Sometimes dating Parker was the greatest gift in the world. He would have to remind himself of that the next he decided to be stupid.

"Is Eliot still going to kill me?" He asked.

"Hell Yeah," the hitter replied, appearing out of nowhere, "but that's later. Right now it's time to go get our grifter. You in?"

Hardison grinned and the thief and hitter knew.

"Hell yeah I'm in," he said, "Who else is gonna to track her down?"


	71. Chapter 71

Broken Bones:

Words: 827

Sophie hated how purple she looked. Lately that was the only color she woke up to. For the past few months she lay at the brunt of Moreau's tempers. That man knew how to swing his fist and work his hand to do damage. She knew that long before she even got involved. Now though, now it was aimed to test her loyalty.

A broken arm was nothing to her. She used to get them all the time when she was little. It wasn't that her parents were cruel or abusive or anything as horrid as that. She had been a little daredevil in her younger years. She'd fallen out of trees almost regularly, usually because her brother did something stupid. And she, the fool that she was would try to correct it.

She shattered her wrist the last time she was shot. It wasn't because that's where the bullet went either. She was shot in the back and fell forward. Unfortunately that forward motion ended up with her going down a few stairs. The wrist was shattered because she actually caught herself. Then she pushed up and continued running despite the blood loss.

Nate never did forgive her for that one. He would never forgive Sterling either.

Today it was three broken ribs she had to move around. She had only recently been invited back to Moreau's bed. Apparently every blow she took was only further proof that she was willing to fight for his trust. She was slowly proving her loyalty belonged to him and him alone. The broken ribs were just another trial in his constant testing.

She made a mistake. It was only a simple one. She asked him how his plans were going. She wanted to talk to him again. It wasn't exactly the best of plans but she was lonely and so sick of the cold shoulder. He only pushed her into the wall. When she cried out in pain he looked regretful. He was at her side in moments inspecting his deeds.

"Broken ribs," she explained, "The basement gave me a cold. Ordinarily I would be able to catch myself."

"It was my fault," he said, "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

It was a small sign that they were moving on the right track. He recognized it as a mistake moments later but the damage was done. He just shrugged his shoulders and allowed her the victory. Then he picked her up and helped her wrap her ribs. This too was progress. Before she was left to reset and wrap up her own broken bones.

"Tomorrow I will bring you a doctor," he said, "It will be the best one, I promise. Only the best for you. I will work on my anger."

"I deserve your anger," she replied. She didn't say it because she meant it. She said it because it was expected. She needed to grovel at his feet a little bit but not too much. He would become suspicious if she was too docile. "I betrayed you, my love."

He smiled at the pet name. His eyes sparkled with victory too. He was trying to gain back her favor by tricking her into being his bride. She was willing to make him think it was working, but not too much. He would lose interest in her if she allowed him all the power. No she had to keep him on his toes. So, right when he thought he was most secure, she would strike.

"I'll have you trained up to be my wife in no time flat," he joked.

She slapped him for that. His eyes glowed red with the fire of his anger. She merely shrugged and shook her finger.

"That was for the prostitute you brought over yesterday," she said, "I had to burn the sheets and ask one of your lovely men for a new set. If you want to punish me, do it properly. I won't tolerate your eyes straying towards another, even if you pay for it."

He laughed at that. Then he kissed her palms and shook his head.

"You're the one with the history of straying," he said, "but I understand your jealousy. I did not sleep with her, by the way. I merely talked with her and asked her to sound as though we were in the thralls of passion. Please don't tell my men. They'll think I've gone soft."

"A good queen does not undermine her king's power," she replied, "Besides, my love, I deserve whatever punishment you throw my way."

"indeed you do, my darling spitfire," he laughed. Then he kissed her again and pushed her gently against the bed.

"Now, he said, "Let us break in these brand new sheets. Shall we?"

She responded with a simple kiss and the removal of his tie. Then she tried her hardest not to close her eyes and picture the man she wanted to be with instead.


	72. Chapter 72

Bullet wounds:

Words: 1,000

The moment had finally arrived, the grand finale. Nathan Ford had been waiting for this moment the minute he discovered Moreau was free. He even purchased a gun for the occasion. In fact, that was the very gun he was currently aiming his enemy's way. Unfortunately, his wife had other plans.

"Good-bye Moreau," he said.

"No!" Sophie screamed.

She went to action as she spoke. She placed herself between the mastermind and their enemy. She faced her husband with black eyes firmly glued to his cerulean blues. It was another one of their silent conversations that were passing through. She was conveying a very simple message. He just wasn't quite willing to give her this one.

"Nate, please," she said, "Don't do this."

He almost lost the battle right there. But he knew the truth. He knew what kind of man Moreau was. The man was better off dead. He was safer dead. There was nothing else in the world they could do. He had to die.

"Sophie, move!" Nate yelled.

The grifter lifted her chin in defiance. She shook her head softly, tears in her eyes.

"I can't, Nate," she said, "I won't let you do this."

Moreau smirked behind her. He raised a challenging eyebrow the mastermind's way. Then he laughed that evil laugh of his.

"Your move Ford," he said, "She's mine now."

Nate glared at the man. He hated that man. He'd never hated anybody, not even Dubenich, as much as he hated Damien Moreau. Eliot was too busy to make this task easier. The hitter was the one who told him Moreau had to die in order to truly be rid of him forever. Hardison and Parker wouldn't be there until it was already too late. They were wrapping up with Tara and the rest of the agency. Moreau wouldn't be able to return to Paris, but he wouldn't be completely stopped either. It would be years before anybody got this kind of opportunity again.

But Sophie was standing in between him and his revenge.

"Move out of the way, Soph," he said.

"No, Nate," she shook her head as she spoke, "I can't."

"Do you love him?" He asked.

It was the tiny, insignificant little voice in the back of his head. Her actions didn't make sense any other way. Logically he knew she had been with Moreau for six months now. Something had to have happened in order for her to survive Moreau. It was more than possible that those words she spoke all those months ago were true now. Maybe he did win her heart.

That only served to fuel his anger.

"Yes," she said, "please. Let us go."

He stared at her, deeply into her eyes. He was searching for something he was afraid would never be there again. He wanted proof that he knew her, that he knew her better than everyone. He certainly knew her better than Moreau. He wouldn't even tolerate her standing in front of him, defending his life in front of a gun. He'd be absolute mad with dread.

He moved towards her slowly. His eyes were glued to Moreau the entire time. The gun was pointed solely on Sophie. For some reason that seemed to be what was keeping Moreau properly tamed. So the mastermind just kept the gun pointed at Sophie's heart and kept walking forward. He then waited until he was directly where Sophie wanted him to be, right in front of her. Then he handed her the gun and watched as she immediately removed the bullets and threw them to the side.

"Go," he said.

Her gentle fingers curled around his cheek. This close he could see the light pattering of bruises along her cheek. He could even make out just how much weight she'd lost since this whole thing began. But those tears in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. There was such sadness and dismay in those beautiful brown eyes.

"Thank you," she said.

She turned around without another word. He took that as his cue. He turned around as well. He started walking away from the woman who brought him back to life. He didn't even care if Moreau shot him in the back. Clearly the winner had been given the prize. Sophie Devereaux chose to save Damien Moreau's life. She sacrificed her happiness so Nate wouldn't have blood on his hands. He knew he didn't deserve her. She was too good for him.

"No!" Sophie screamed.

He turned around just in time for everything to click into place. The sound of a gun firing filled the air and Sophie fell mere feet away from him. He raced to her without even thinking. His focus wasn't solely on the grifter whose back seemed to have exploded in blood. He fell to his knees at her side, unable to decide what to do first. He lifted her into his arms and regretted the action. So he quickly placed his hand on top of the blood and held on tight.

Her eyes were filled to the brim with pain. They were already getting glassy too, a bad sign. He could feel the panic rising in his chest at the little smile on her lips. He wanted to throttle her for what she did. He also wanted to kiss her senselessly.

"Why?" He managed to choke out, "Why would you do that? What were you thinking, you stupid, stupid… angel?"

That smile on her lips grew wider at his dismay. A soft, gentle, weak hand came up onto his cheek. He could feel the heat dissolve right out of that hand too. It only made the panic in his chest grow stronger. A stray finger found its way to her lips. Her head shook from side to side slowly and with pain.

"I knew you would never fire," she said.

Then those eyes, those dark dulling black eyes he loved so much, closed with no intention of opening again.


	73. Chapter 73

Stroke/Heart Attack:

Words: 659

Damien Moreau was stunned speechless. He was still holding the smoking gun but he couldn't believe his eyes. He'd only raised the gun when he was certain she was out of harm's way. He didn't even make a sound. How did she know what he wanted to do? Then she was just there and his finger had already pulled the trigger. There was nothing he could have done to stop it.

He just shot the woman he loved.

"You bastard!" Ford shouted. He was the one holding her dying body. He was cradling it in his hands like she was the very treasure she was. He was even trying to hold all of the blood in her. He was the one she died for, not him. "You cold, heartless bastard!"

Ford just kept cursing him after that. Then he would easily get distracted. He'd pull Sophie closer into his arms and just push her hair away from her face. He was even rocking back and forth in dismay. But his eyes, those blue eyes she had once described so vividly, they were pointed solely on him. The hatred there was almost appealing. He could almost understand it. That was what she turned him into. She made him soft. She made him better too.

"You've killed her," Ford whimpered.

Damien bulked immediately. He couldn't believe that. He couldn't even fathom it. So he just shook his head and pointed his gun at that accusing man with those sharp blue eyes.

"I didn't want to," he said, making excuses for himself like he never would have before her. "I was aiming for you. She just got in the way. I had already fired!"

Ford didn't give him the out he wanted. He just nodded his head and cuddled closer into the grifter's hair. He planted a soft, gentle kiss to her head and finally began climbing out from her touch. Damien almost shot him for it. Nobody had any right to abandon her.

"Please," Ford begged, "You might as well kill me too."

That was the opening he needed. Damien had made moves on far less desperate orders. He used to laugh when they asked him for that. He used to order his men to have some fun and cut the victim any way they liked. But this man, Ford, didn't need that. She died so he wouldn't.

Damien pointed his gun with every intention of doing it. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to make this man pay for taking his queen away from him. But she had made her choice, and it wasn't for the man who could give her everything. She chose to protect him and the great and powerful Damien Moreau was too soft to deny her last request.

He threw his gun to the side and screamed. He latched onto the mastermind's shirt and shook him. His mind was a mess. He couldn't understand anything. Everything he saw, the only thing he could focus on, was Sophie's still unmoving body.

"She's not dead," he said, "She can't be dead!"

"She's gone," Ford replied. His voice was an empty growl.

"Please," Moreau begged, "Kill me. End it! It's what you wanted. You have your chance. Take your revenge!"

"You loved her," Ford gasped, "She actually got you to love her!"

Damien wanted to argue the point. He wanted to slam his face into that smug bastard's face and get the usual reaction he got. But he couldn't. She made everything wrong. Everything he was, wasn't him anymore. She changed him. She wasn't even trying and she changed him.

He screamed in agony as a giant force slammed into his chest. There was a great fire in his stomach. His insides were suddenly screaming for release. He could feel the breath falling from his lungs. Nothing he could do or say could stop it. He was dying. He could feel it.

His heart was tearing itself apart.


	74. Chapter 74

Hypothermia:

Words: 974

There were doctors and nurses everywhere. Sophie was barely visible through the giant throng of people. Eliot could only just make out her hair on the bed. Every other inch of her was covered with a doctor and/or a machine. The doctors were currently trying to get the beeping sound to stop, her heartbeat to return.

"Cardio's slipping."

"Pb's dropping."

"Bullet scratched the descending aorta. Blood loss major. Collapsed bronchial tube."

"Beat back. Cooling temp to 32 Celsius."

"Prep for surgery stat!"

The doctors disappeared in seconds flat. The grifter's heartbeat didn't sound very steady. But they were inducing hypothermia. They only did that if they thought their patient had a shot. That was impossible. Sophie had been unconscious for quite some time. There was no way she could still be hanging on… unless.

"No," Nate muttered.

The hitter swung his head around and yelled at himself. He'd forgotten all about the older man. This had to be nothing more than his worst nightmare come to life. This was very similar to how he lost his son. Only Sam died of cancer after months of battling, he wasn't shot by the man who kept him prisoner for those months. Of course he was a prisoner to the illness itself but it was still nothing like this. The man wasn't even keeping it together anymore.

"No," he screamed, "No, no, no, no!"

He slammed his fist into the nearest wall. Then he bent forward and burst into tears. Eliot didn't even think about reacting. He just lunged forward and caught the man before he could continue his descent towards the ground.

"Nate," he said, "It's alright. It's a good thing they've induced hypothermia."

Nate's blue eyes fell towards him and took his breath away. There was such sadness there, such defeat. It was almost as though he'd already lost the battle to hope. In his mind Sophie was as good as gone.

"Hypothermia means she went into cardiac arrest," he said, "Do you know why that's so bad, Eliot? Hypothermia leads to bacterial pneumonia. Bacterial pneumonia leads to viral pneumonia. Do you know what follows viral pneumonia, Eliot? Death! And it's a long slow death too!"

The man was struggling now. He was throwing fists and his body with every curse he spoke. There was nothing left in him but the need to fight. Eliot understood that. It was a typical symptom when faced with the death of the one you loved. He'd watched his daddy fight the same battle decades ago. Now it was Nate's turn to go through this all over again.

"Why didn't he do it?" He shouted. "He had the gun pointed right at me. Why didn't he take the shot? Why didn't he kill me too?"

It took Eliot a minute to truly digest the babbling. Then he wished he wasn't able to understand a word of it. Of course Nate would pull a stunt like that. Sophie getting shot wasn't part of the plan. The moment her eyes closed he would just assume it was all over. It only made sense that he would demand to go down with her. That was just something Nate Ford did. What didn't make sense was Damien.

The man lived and breathed terror. The more a victim begged for mercy, the more pain he would inflict. He even laughed when they barbequed the children of a banker who got in the way, one by one and with a toaster oven. Why wouldn't he take advantage of Nate's plea? The gun had been thrown to the side long before he got there. Moreau was collapsing and complaining about his heart being ripped in two. It didn't make sense.

"Sophie got him to fall in love with her?" He gasped.

He even dropped the mastermind in his shock. It was impossible. Damien didn't let anybody that close to his heart. But Sophie knew how to get into a person's heart even when they didn't want her to. Eliot knew that from firsthand experience. Damien loved her so much he actually honored her wishes.

"He didn't kill me because of her," Nate cried, "He wanted me to suffer. He wanted me to live in a world without her! That bastard! I should have killed him when I had the chance!"

It was during another one of the mastermind's tempers when Eliot became aware of the red streak running down the mastermind's arm. He flew to his boss' side and immediately started scanning the wound. It wasn't that bad, just a graze. It would be an easy fix but it sure did make a nice hole in the arm.

"What happened?" The hitter asked.

Nate gave him a dirty look for a moment. Then he swallowed back his tears a few times and started to focus his mind. It was an amazing thing to watch the mastermind quickly gain focus and perspective like that. He went from a screaming toddler to a decrepit adult in ten seconds flat. Then his sad blue eyes found home with his.

"The gun went off," he said, "the bullet must have grazed me. It was when he threw it down. He… he started experiencing a heart attack after that."

Heart attack, Eliot chuckled at the thought. It wasn't a heart attack. Tara was in charge of the op.

"Let's go get that taken care of," the hitter suggested softly.

The mastermind growled at him. His eyes were dark with fury and he looked ready for another round of flailing. But instead he only rose to his feet and nodded. That was a step in the right direction. At least he was aware of his obligations to the team. Hopefully they would be able keep him at it. Eliot just hoped the hypothermia method worked.

It was all up to Sophie now.


	75. Chapter 75

Pneumonia:

Words: 957

Nate was right, naturally. He hated being right. The hypothermia had been a good idea. It gave the doctors enough time to stitch up Sophie's heart and keep her from bleeding out all over again. They spent hours trying to keep her alive. But keeping her in a hypothermic state for that long had consequences. The doctors told him that was what they were most worried about to begin with. Days later she started coming down with the symptoms. Now they were worried it was going to be too much for her lungs.

The machine beeped again, signaling another dosage of antibiotics were being administered. The breathing machine began to whirl to life, keeping her lungs going for just a little bit longer. That was the problem with pneumonia. It attacked the lungs, made it difficult to breathe. Moreau's bullet had already ripped through her left lung and damaged a major artery. Why couldn't they be burdened with the weight of flem as well.

"This is ridiculous!" Hardison yelled. He punched the wall and left the room in an angry heap.

He'd been yelling on and off for the past few days. Just when they thought the yelling had stopped, his frustration fully vented, he would go off again. The outbursts were getting closer and closer together the longer the grifter remained immobile. That was alright with Nate. He wasn't the one who really had to make this newest decision.

"I'll go talk to him," Parker called. She was gone seconds later. Her newly acquired observation skills told her to get out and bail before the inevitable conversation began. She was afraid there would be fists and bloody lips. Nate wasn't too sure that wouldn't be the outcome.

"Nate," Eliot said.

"I know, Eliot," he replied, "I know."

The doctors were bugging Eliot, pushing him to make the decision. They were only falling protocol. Sophie's medical proxy was her husband, Nathan Ford. The next on that list was Eliot Spencer. It made sense that they would approach him on the subject of disconnecting the machines. Pneumonia tended to lower the success rate by sixty percent. It was almost impossible for her to recover. That was what they told Nate. He couldn't blame them for thinking he'd lost his mind. He didn't exactly react sanely to their explanation.

"How much longer are we gonna wait for her to decide?" Eliot demanded angrily, "She's sure takin her damn time! It's been a week, man! She should be awake by now."

"Now, now Eliot," Nate sighed, "She was shot in the back. The bullet ruptured one long and collapsed the other. It also grazed a major artery. The fact that she is alive proves how stubborn she is. Do you honestly think a week is an adequate amount of time to recover from such injuries?"

"She should be awake!" Eliot shouted, "I've been shot in the heart and walked away faster than this. I'm goin stir crazy, man. I haven't been to the restaurant in days. I'm beginnin to forget what thinkin straight actually means!"

"Calm down, Eliot," Nate advised, "She just needs some time. She'll be fine."

"You don't even believe that!" Eliot cursed, "You're just in denial! That's why they approached me. They're afraid you're going insane and their actually word you might turn violent if they try something. You're hinderin her progress, Nate."

The mastermind sighed deeply at that. He then brought Sophie's fragile hand up to his lips and kissed her. He rose to his feet and kissed her on the forehead for good measure. Then he turned his full attention on the panicking young man before him. He placed his hands on his shoulder and glared.

"I know my wife, Eliot," he said, "and I know she's doing everything in her power she can to get back to us. There is only so much she can do under the circumstances though. She's sick, Eliot. I won't lie. It's not going to be easy. She's been awake in similar situations a hell of a lot quicker. But she isn't as young as she used to be. She needs more time and she needs us to give it to her."

Eliot stared at him, stunned. He didn't blame the younger man. It was the first sane thing he's said in a while. Honestly he thought he'd forgotten how to do it. But it made sense to him, Sophie's slow progress. She did everything in her power to defy stereotypes. This was the biggest performance of her life. She had several months of prior trauma to deal with on top of the bullet wound. Her body needed the rest.

But the hitter was still staring at him, mouth wide agape. Then his hand rose up and a chubby, muscled finger was pointing the grifter's way. Words were trying to pour from his lips. Nate was sure of it. He just kept stuttering and pointing.

"St-st-stop her!" He said.

Nate turned around and just in time too. Sophie had already managed to get her hand on the tube over her mouth. She was working on yanking it out when the mastermind went into action. He pulled her wrist away and held down tight on the other one. She even managed to get that tube lose enough where alarms were screaming. Her whole body was convulsing. She wasn't getting oxygen.

"Mr. Ford, it's alright. You can let her go. We'll take it from here."

He nodded his head and allowed Eliot to pull him away. Now the doctors were working on making the screaming stop. Apparently Sophie decided to finally make her appearance. Now it was up to the doctors to make sure she made it past the final curtain.


	76. Chapter 76

Supernatural: Creatures

Words: 978

Sophie was dancing with Nate. She was in her wedding gown, a long flowing ivory dress that pillowed to the floor gently. Nate was wearing his black tux with the blue shirt she begged him to never change out of. They were laughing and enjoying the moment. Then everything changed.

Angry hands grabbed away at her shoulders. They pulled her away from Nate and she fell. She fell into darkness unsure if she would ever be able to see light again. Then she felt those rough, angry hands glue themselves to her hips. Something was slowly scraping against her neck. She turned around and screamed.

It was Moreau. Only it wasn't him. He was different. He had shimmering teeth and hungry red eyes. He was a vampire, the kind horror stories were written about. She was struggling to be free of his hold, but she couldn't stop staring into his eyes. She felt herself be pulled closer and closer to his enchanting red eyes. His mouth opened to make room for her blood.

A giant roar sounded. Moreau's teeth had barely penetrated her skin before he threw her to the floor. A lion stood before him, ready for battle. He had the same bright blue eyes of the mastermind she married. Those blue eyes were staring at her with nothing but love and concern. There was no doubt about it, not really. That lion was Nathan Ford.

The two charged each other. Moreau unleashed a hord of bats to distract the mastermind. Nate in turn allowed his claws to sink into the Vampires skin. That's how they fought. They would scratch, bite and claw their way through the enemy, searching for a weakness that may never be there. Then something happened and Moreau had won. Nate, the strong powerful lion was lying on the floor; ready for the slaughter.

She couldn't help it. She raced forward with all of her might.

"No," she called, "Please, don't kill him. Take me instead. I'm the one you want."

Moreau didn't listen. He just kept walking towards the defeated mastermind, blood on his fingertips. Nate's blue eyes were staring at her helplessly. So she did her best to save him. She hit the vampire against the head with her fists, she couldn't find a chair. She used her feet. She did everything she could, but it all failed. Moreau was about to rip the head right off of Nate and there was nothing she could do about it.

"It's alright, Sophie," a voice called.

"NO," she cried, "He's going to kill Nate. Please, help me stop him."

A young angel appeared before her eyes. It was a young boy, no bigger than eight or nine. His hair was a curly mop at the top of his head. His face reminded her of someone but she couldn't quite place it. He was both familiar and a stranger. A light glowed from inside him, covering up his naked body beautifully.

"It's over, Sophie," the angel said, "Moreau's dead."

"But he's right there," she argued, pointing to the bloody mess that used to be Nate. Moreau seemed to be enjoying his kill a little too much.

"No, Sophie," the angel shook his head, "Moreau is dead. It's all in your head."

"What about Nate?" She demanded, "What about Eliot, Hardison and Parker? They're never going to forgive me for this."

"There's nothing to forgive," the angel said, "They know the truth. You've saved them, Soph."

"Soph," she said.

Then it all clicked in her mind. Those cheeks, that hair, those tiny lips, those beautiful bright blue eyes; she knew why they were all so familiar. She didn't know why she didn't recognize him before.

"You're safe, Sophie," he said, "You can open your eyes now."

The bright light in his chest began to glow and grow. The angel was dissolving away, disappearing to perform some other heavenly work. His father's blue eyes were the only things left she could see.

"Sam," she called.

The blue eyes merely blinked. Then something happened. The light grew dimmer and everything started coming into focus. Those blue eyes were still there, but that face. She knew that face better than her own soul.

"It's me Soph," Nate said, "Are you alright?"

"Hey," she croaked.

Her throat hurt. Actually everything hurt. She could suddenly feel nothing but pain and it made her want to disappear back into the darkness. Then she remembered that Moreau was still in the darkness. Maybe the pain wasn't that bad.

"Here," Nate said, handing her a glass of water that tasted amazing. "That should help with the sore throat."

"You would be the expert," she joked.

She immediately regretted the action when a searing pain enveloped her side. She felt a little light-headed from the pain now. She could feel the drugs starting to take effect. She looked down, only for a second, and noticed the mastermind's thumb was pressing down on a button. That button looked an awful lot like her morphine drip.

"You had pneumonia," he said, "and a lot of other stuff. We were worried about you."

"The others?" She asked.

"They went for food," he winked, "I wanted to be here when you woke up. I just won the pool."

"Moreau?"

His eyes grew dark with anger for a moment. Then a smile slammed back onto his face. His left hand started rubbing circles into her forehead. His nose grew closer to hers.

"He didn't make it," he said, "Heart attack."

Sophie nodded her head and felt a giant yawn claw its way up her throat. She must have blinked too because Nate was giving her one of his fond smiles. He kissed her on the forehead and rubbed his nose against hers.

"Sleep Soph. I'll be here when you wake up," he promised.

She surrendered to his orders immediately.


	77. Chapter 77

Shot Down:

Words: 1,029

Apparently getting shot down wasn't that big of a deal. Sophie Devereaux was pretty positive she had overestimated just how bad it could be. It wasn't that bad. She placed her hints. She even alluded to a few snacks that would put him in the mood. She wore an extra slinky dress that barely left room for the imagination. He even took notice too.

"No, Sophie," he said.

But Nate had somehow decided that doctors were geniuses when she was involved. It wasn't fair. He got to disobey their orders all the time.

"Why not?" She asked. She even used her finger to curl her hair, innocently. Then she bent forward just enough to make him regret saying no. It was working too. His eyes couldn't move away from what was exposed by her dress.

"The doctors said we couldn't do that for another two weeks," he replied. His voice was very tight and he still had removed his eyes from the front of her dress. "Your ribs aren't fully healed."

"Oh what do they know?" She pouted, sticking out her lower lip to tempt him further. "You know me better than they do. You know what I can and cannot handle."

She used her sexy voice on that last line. Then she stepped forward and started rubbing his chest all over. She could feel his pulse quicken at her touch. It made her heart soar to know she had such power over him. Fifteen years down the road, of knowing each other's minds inside and out, and she could still do that to him. Only this time she was his wife and he didn't have to feel guilty for it.

He pulled her hands away and walked to the opposite side of the room.

"No, Sophie," he growled. Good, he deserved to sound frustrated. It meant she wasn't the only one being punished.

"Nate," she hissed, "You know I don't take no for an answer."

"Fine," he said, "I'll sleep on the couch."

He headed for the bedroom door immediately. His footing was quite hasty for somebody who was on his third bottle of the evening. She quickly beat him to the punch though. After all these years she was still the faster runner, years of practice. Her hands were pushing him towards the bed and he was barely putting up a protest.

"You don't have to be mean about it," she purred, "I can take a hint. I have been shot down before, you know."

"By idiots," he replied, "The only reason you're being told no is because I know you."

"Oh you do, do you?" She smiled at this. She was very good at foreplay. He walked right into her trap. How could she not have fun with this? She sat on his lap and kept her body very close to his. The effect was instantaneous.

"I know when you're hiding something." He said this but his hands still found their way around her waist. He even indulged her in a little snog of affection.

"And what could I possibly be hiding right now?" She asked. She waved down to her extremely revealing dress and enjoyed the way his eyes darkened with lust, want, need and love.

"We both know what you're hiding, Soph," he replied. His throat sounded very scratchy and very, very sexy. "Let's stop this game now before someone gets burned."

She engaged him in a battle of tongues immediately. She was even winning. She knew it by the way his hands tightened around her… assets. She smirked and he growled. Then she pushed them so they were lying on the bed. He hated being on bottom, too much control lost in the position. He rolled them over immediately and she enjoyed the scrape of his scruff on her neck. He slowly began to raise her hands above her head.

And there was fire in her lungs!

"Ow!" She screamed.

He backed off in seconds flat. She could honestly say she'd never seen him move so quickly. He was off the bed and flying towards the door in a heap. Then he let loose a series of curse words and came back, plucking a pillow off the head of the bed.

"I'm sleeping on the couch," he replied.

"Nate, no!" She chuckled softly and quickly pulled him back onto the bed. "Stay."

He obeyed her albeit begrudgingly. He was fluffing his pillow rather angrily. She was almost certain it would burst into a million feathers if she didn't interfere. She delicately placed her hand on top of his and pulled him to her side. His face softened instantly.

"I told you you weren't ready," he sighed.

She wrapped his hand around her waist and snuggled up against him deliberately. She was going to make him stay the night with her. He was her husband and she loved him being so cautious with her. But there was only so much she could take before enough was enough.

"That is something we can easily work around," she winked.

"No," he yelled, "We're only going to sleep. No more talk of this for another two weeks."

"Okay."

"I mean it. No more slinky dresses. No more flirting with other men to make me jealous. No more strawberries and oysters for dinner. This is completely off the table until those ribs and lungs of yours are properly fit. Got it?"

"Got it," she replied. She even waved the scout's promise in front of his face for good measure. He had to correct it because she added an extra finger but the kiss was a nice way to shoot her down gently.

"Then, Mrs. Ford, I will punish you properly for that little stunt you pulled with Moreau."

"Why Mr. Ford."

He silenced her with a kiss that promised many things. Then he pulled away before she could dart her cunning tongue past his lips again. He smiled at her disgruntlement but she was rewarded with a kiss to the forehead anyway. Getting shot down always bruised her ego and her plans, but it was also one of the nicest gifts her husband could have ever given her.


End file.
